The One Who Touched the Sky
by HazelFlynn
Summary: Rollah never asked to be the story book heroine. All she wanted was a normal life for herself...but it seems fate had other plans. Welcome to a slice of her very "normal" life, one misadventure at a time! R&R!
1. Beginner Adventurer

**Author's Note: **My first...well, techinally my third story on Fanfiction! The first two didn't work out so well, so here hoping that third time really _is _the charm! People always say constructive critism is welcome, either because they actually want feedback or they're fishing for compliments. I'm leaning more toward the former, but I'll admit to fishing in the past. I also bruise easily, not in the sense that I can't take a good punch (well, I am squimish...) but in the sense that flames and flaming people don't sit well with me. I appreciate feedback of any sort, but all I ask is that you keep it constructive and not bashing ^^;;

Thank you ~! Now let's get on with it...

**Beginner Adventurer**

"Everybody out!" A scruffy man with an eye patch and a gun strapped to his belt manning the wheel waved them off the boat. Needless to say, no one attempted to fight him. What was his problem anyways? He wasn't the one who left everything behind, with nothing except a miniature axe, a few potions, and the clothes on his back, to come to a strange island where they didn't know anybody! Oh, wait – that was just her, wasn't it?

Looking around, Rollah was disappointed to see that it was. The trip had taken a little under a full day. That much time spent with the same people had to have lead to some interactions, a kick for budding friendships to form. But Rollah, ever clueless and out-of-the-know, had spent 85% of the flight asleep in the cabin. And if you're wondering how she got that number, truth is, she made it up. In fact, she probably slept even more than that.

Unlike the night before she left, where she swore she had gotten negative hours of sleep. Not zero, but even less than that (if that was possible). No matter what she did, she just couldn't seem to put her mind at ease so she could get some zees. No, instead she up tossing and turning so much she actually fell out of her bunk-bed (and she was on the top bunk, by the way), worrying about Victoria Island.

Rollah yawned and stretch her stiff limbs. She took one last look at the large ship, her last connection to Maple Island. The large propellers that retracted into the sides of the ships had slipped out again and a few minutes later, the engine roared to life and the blade spun picking up more speed each time it went around. The motion caused harsh winds to blow at the dock and surrounding areas. Rollah placed a single hand above her eye, shielding it as she watched the giant boat lifted off into the sky and disappear from view.

The dust that been disrupted, settled afterwards, and the people dispersed, off to explore the rich new lands. And Rollah was left alone by the docks, starring out at the endless waters that stretched along and encased the island. Barely there for five minutes and already she was homesick. She starred gloomy eyed at the newly arrives Adventurers laughing and wondered what she was missing. Was there something inherently unfriendly about her that pushed people away? Or was it just as simple as the fact that she fell asleep during the ride and failed to make a good impression?

Maybe she just needed to kick-start her life; have something unusual or abnormal happen to her, like a rock sudden falling out of the sky and hitting on the head. Ah, who was she kidding? Stuff like that never happened to her. Her life was as normal as it got. Rollah ran a hand through her hair absentmindedly, picking at the spikes and brushing dirt out.

_Uhg, I wish I could say the same thing about my hair._ The orangey-brown spikes that sat atop her head made it look like she got caught in a tornado but they were not the result of the wind. In fact, she didn't know how her hair was so unruly. It wasn't always like this; at one point, her hair was composed of soft, glimmering, strands. Then one day, she woke up and in its place sat string locks bunched into spikes that revolved around her head and refused to be tamed. It was just one more thing in her life that changed all of a sudden. She sighed. This wasn't helping; if anything she was going from anxious to just plain depressed.

Instead, she turned attention back to the sea. Everything was ideal for relaxation; to just get away from it all. Rollah closed her eyes to take all in. The squawking of seagulls, the calming breeze, the sound of the waves gentle crashing on the sandy –

"Hey, watch it!"

_And, I'm back. _Not far off in the distance, the cry was heard, followed by the pitter-patter of two sets of footsteps that ran with all its strength across the cobblestone ground of the harbor. The owners of the those footsteps came into Rollah sight as the travelers parted, creating a clear path, and she saw it was two small, twin boys both bald with"41" and "42" stitched on their clean white shirts. They stop a few inches away from Rollah, who simply stood unsure if what to do. If anything, she should move and let them continue on their journey. But curiosity got the better of the girl.

"What is your problem?" Rollah snapped. She immediately bit her tongue. Hm, it was stuff like that wasn't it? "I mean," she sighed, lowering her voice, "why are you running like maniacs destroying everything in your path?" It was the nicest way she could put. Rollah gestured at the messy trail they had left behind, all the way from the portal to the grounds mere inches from her feet.

The two stopped huffing and wheezing, long enough to look in her eyes. What Rollah say in them was fear. Fear and anxiety. The very same look she was sure she sported during the ride (well, when she was awake). Part of her was beginning to see herself in those deep brown orbs, and Rollah immediately averted her eyes, suddenly uncomfortable. Yeah, she was uncomfortable; she was uncomfortable seeing herself weak and helpless, unable to do anything except stare wide-eyed in a mix of fear and curiosity.

"Here!" One of them said. Rollah looked back at them to see the boy with "41" on his shirt had his arms outstretched. In them was something she thought she wouldn't see for a long, long time. There, in his sweaty little palms, was a real Maple Skanda. A claw constructed of the finest Dark Crystals fused with a delicate blend of melted Steel, Silver, and Adamantium plates, and set with hand-carved Emeralds and DEX Crystals. On the market, it sold for millions. Her mind boggled at the thought. She had never once seen something worth millions. In her sheltered home back on Maple Island, everyone was retired and thus had most or all of their possessions sold to other budding Players who needed them. She had heard them describe rare or strange items, but never saw one with her own eyes. One of them was the Maple Skanda.

"Take it!" The other said, pulling it out his twin brother's hand and shoved it into Rollah's. "I can't stand it anymore!" He shouted, drawing even more attention to them. He screamed at his brother, No. 41, who looked back at him helplessly. "This is all your fault! I told you we shouldn't have taken it!" Tears of anger brimmed his eyes and Rollah realized this was no longer about her, despite the claw now cradled in her arms. In a huff, No.42 ran back toward the portal. No. 41, clearly sadden and apologetic, followed after his brother wordlessly.

All eyes followed them until they disappeared into the portal. Then they darted back to Rollah, who stood dumbfounded. She didn't know what to make of the scene. On the one hand, it was clear that this Maple Skanda did not belong to them…so she should and see if she can find its rightful owner, right? But on the other hand…

Rollah smiled, looking down at the shiny claw sitting in her arm. Well, it was no rock from the sky, but maybe this was the kick start she need; a sign telling her everything was going to be okay. Maybe fate handed this to her to let her know they didn't totally have it in for her. It was a peace offering; a token of their appreciation for being patient with them. If that was the case, then she totally deserved it. She quietly thanked fate for handing this to her; it was probably the first time they had worked to her favor. Rollah grasped the claw in hands, watching it disappear into her inventory.

On the right side of her vision, a window popped open, and inside, the prized Maple Skanda rested. Rollah let out a breath of relief now that she knew it was safe. When she returned to her normal vision, she realized the crowd that had gathered around her. They whispered and starred as she passed like nothing was wrong. Her cheeks flushed pink and the area had gotten a lot warmer all of a sudden. She hated it when people talked like that. If they had something to say, then say it to her face. It bothered her when people suddenly decided someone couldn't take a joke or shouldn't hear something for fear of embarrassing them, so they resort to snipping behind their back. Don't they realize it was that kind of action that usually made people feel more embarrassed and swells their need to cling to their pride?

But the looks and hush-hush conversation didn't stop even when she got to the portal. She wanted to tell them to just shut up, the hot pink tinge on her face that persisted told her it was best to just hold her head high and keep walking. Her moment was over and it was now time to get serious about her plans…or lack thereof. But Rollah wasn't worried. After all, fate was kind enough to send her something worth millions; who's to say they couldn't they send down a big golden arrow pointing her life in the right direction?

* * *

Things never go as you plan, do they? Siren was learning that the hard way as she browsed through the real estate listing, referring back to the giant map of the neighborhood when something she could afford caught her eye. Then of course, Siren would find something wrong with the location (noisy company; the neighbor has too many pets; the sun rose in that direction meaning she'd never be able to sleep in) and has to keep searching.

"Will you just make up your mind already?" The land owner, a heavy weight man in blue-jean overalls with a red cap and a lit cigarette caught between fingers, said in annoyance. It was the third day that she had been there looking for a home. Siren had already begun asking herself that question, but her ever keen eye to attention kept from answering.

Surrounding her were others searching for a home as well. However, most of them were in the company of family or friends (or both if they were really pampered enough) helping them with location, negotiating rent, and even moving their stuff in. Siren wasn't as lucky. She was here all by her lonesome. Her parents and her sisters were nowhere to be found, but that wasn't their fault. Siren had never told them she was moving into a campy little mushroom house in Henesys instead of a mountain side home in Perion with wrought iron doors that bolted shut where everyone else in her family lived. That would have defeated the purpose of running away, you see. But at times like this, she really wished she was in the company of her mother and father who were much better that this stuff than her.

"Oh, sorry!" An elbow nudged her in the back side just hard enough to make her look up in annoyance. It was a girl, a mini-axe clutched in her hands. The red head band that rested along her forehead was moist with what Siren could only guess was sweat from being baked under the sun. From it, sprung a wild mess of hair, handfuls bunched together to a point, forming soft spikes that jutted in every direction. When she caught Siren starring, she smiled, but it was more of a polite way of saying, "What the flying Boogie are you looking at?" or "Don't you know it's rude to stare at people even if they look like they got caught in a wind storm or haven't washed their hair in so long it was greasy enough to make spikes that gel was hardly necessary?"

Spiky-head found a spot beside Siren and bent down to read through the listings, using her finger as a pointing device and occasionally straightening up to allow people to pass in the narrow office space. Evidently, she was a lot less picky than her because within minutes of arriving, she waved at the land owner to show her a house that she picked. She seemed very confident and smiled, this time much more sincere, at the owner who led her out toward the house. Now this really rattled her nerves. Siren had been a little less than three days and she had yet to find a place to her liking and some over sensitive Noob arrives and finds a house the day of?

Siren had always thought of herself as a very understanding person; very flexible and willing to change plans whenever trouble arose and doing what was fastest in the long run. However, her fallout with her parents made her realize that perhaps she wasn't as willing to bend to convenience as she liked to believe. However, this really just took the cake.

Or maybe Spiky-head was just as picky but found something to her liking that Siren missed while searching. But according to her sisters, finding someone with similar tastes and attention to details as Siren was like, one in infinity. But she refused to believe that and follow the pair out in a huff of indignation. It was even more crowded outside. The boat from Maple Island had arrived and a load of Beginners flooded the towns eager to get the necessities out of the way. The heat waved also didn't help, making her feel more and more like she was slowing baking in a giant oven.

Siren squeezed her way through the crowds. She could still see them up ahead. The owner pointed at the different houses they passed, throwing his arm over his head and gestured at the rows of mushroom houses to the left of them. Spiky-head nodded; she seemed truly interested to what he had said. The owner had attempted to give Siren similar help but she brushed him off, thinking she could handle something as simple as choosing a house. Now, after three days of looking, she didn't feel so confident anymore.

They finally stopped in front of a brownish mushroom house with creamy white blobby spots, and a sky-blue roof cap decorated with purple polka dots. Was she serious? Siren could already see a million things wrong with her choice. For one thing, it was six-inches shorter than the average house and the sun rose directly across from it, meaning she wouldn't be able to sleep past sunrise. Also, the guy to the right kept two Monkeys that threw bananas peels everywhere and a Dino Boy that was obviously not trained to know where it was _appropriate_ to go the bathroom.

But still, Spiky-head seemed content. Either she didn't know or she didn't care. Siren watched as she handed him a wad of bills than proceed to shake his hand laughing. He said something and she nodded, waving at him. When he passed, he noticed Siren looking at them but passed without a word. Her gaze followed him, feeling a little more miffed than she did before. Was it that kind of thing that made people likable? Was that why her father said she was so disappointing? Why he didn't even seem to care when she said she was leaving?

Siren looked back at Spiky-head, now sitting on the small wooden porch. It was the mark of someone who was very happy where they stood in life…or the mark of someone who was about to get stinkin' rich! Siren barely noticed when her mouth formed a perfectly round 'o'. The only thing she was concerned with was the shiny Maple Skanda, Spiky-head held in her hands. She held it up high, examining it under the sun's abundant rays. She even slipped it on, only to be disappointed to find it was way too large for her skinny arm. Siren scoffed. What did she think was going to happen? Thief claws were huge and molded into the shape of the wearer's arm, but only if that wearer possessed the necessities to do so. And the only way to get that was to become a Thief. Otherwise, she had no use for it other than selling it for a quick profit.

"How did a girl like her get her hands on a thing like that?" One of the guys standing beside said, pointing at the claw in Spiky-head's hands. His profile listed him as a Level 12 Rogue. The standard Garnier quipped to his arm along with his plain white t-shirt and brown shorts made it obvious that all he could do was drool at it; he wouldn't be buying one of those for a long time.

"Oh, careful Precious!" A sickly sweet voice chimed into Siren's left ear. Uhg, what happened to personal space? Well, she supposed it didn't matter when the area was this crowded. Everyone was practically walking shoulder to shoulder. Still, she was about to tell the Pink Beanie off, when a foul odor infested the air. Siren wrinkled her nose, realizing that she's choked on the stench before; that time she had gone out to see some of the homes and that guy's Dino Boy made a number two right beside her –

* * *

"Oh, careful Precious!" The smoke colored husky whined as it looked up at Chaunti with its icy blue eyes. She bent down and picked it up in her arms, ruffling its soft fur.

A sound of disgust rippled across the field. It took a moment before Chaunti realized it was the girl right beside her. She was about to inquire as to what the problem was, before she looked down and noticed why Precious had insisted on stopping in the middle of their walk. Chaunti rolled her eyes.

The girl groaned, starring daggers at Chaunti. "Could you _please_ learn to curb your doggy no-no's?" she spat.

Chaunti scoffed in disbelief. "It's a dog," she stated in a clearly condescending tone. "That's what they do! I can't stop that!" Clearly, this blue-haired Archer was not a pet person.

"Well, can't you pick up after it? Train it to go behind a bush or something instead in the middle of the road?" She shouted back.

Chaunti rolled her eyes at the Archer. Well, she could but in her family, that wasn't her job. All she had to do was be the obedient little daughter their parents could show off to their friends. After all, that's why they even bothered having kids. But Chaunti was in no mood to discuss this with an over-reactive stranger. Handing Precious off to Kirsty, who always stood to her right along with Kristy at her left, she pulled out a bottle of Pure Water and poured it over her dog's left over's. It washed away the excrement and cleaned off the bit of the Archer's shoes where Precious had dumped over. "There," she sighed, "happy?"

Chaunti took the Archer's silence and the pink tinge that slowly colored her face as consent to leave. She flipped her soft pink curls over her should as the last condescending message before walking away.

Once they were out of the homelands and in the relative privacy of the Pet Park, Chaunti sank down into a bench. She groaned. The confrontation was not something she needed today. Kirsty handed Precious back to her, but she waved the Husky away. It barked at her, whining and struggling in Kirsty's grasp before finally struggling free. It hopped down at Chaunti's feet, standing on its hind legs and pawing at her skirt. She shooed it down and turned away, not in the mood to put up with it.

To be completely honest, Chaunti never bothered to have the dog trained because she hated it. She too was disgusted by the 'doggy no-no's' and its constant need for attention. The Husky had been a something her mother Eleanor got for her to give as a gift to her fiancée. In their many dinner conversations she had learned he was a dog person, so she got Chaunti the dog to give him for a present. He was thrilled, of course. Even if he was being overly civil and polite, he wasn't lying about the fact that he loved animals. Chaunti watched him scoop up the dog into his arms and cuddle it with complete ease and comfort. She was glad to see he was happy with the dog. He hadn't smiled like that since they were children.

Unfortunately, the downside of the pet became obvious when he was rarely home and she was left alone to take care of it. The little mutt turned out to be more trouble than it was worth. On the outside, she pretended she loved Precious; pretentiousness was an art she'd long perfected over the course of her life; but when she was alone, she couldn't care less what happen to the beady-eyed mongrel.

Chaunti sighed. Kirsty and Kristy had taken Precious for a walk across the training field, so Chaunti was left to enjoy the moment of peace and privacy. In the distance, she heard Precious snarling, probably barring it's manicured teeth at the strangers.

Chaunti squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears. She _so_ did not need this right now! She wondered where her fiancé was; what he was doing that very moment. Whatever it was, Chaunti was sure it was more pleasing than having to listen to a dog throw a temper tantrum.

"Uh, Chaunti!" Kirsty cried in the distance. The snarling still hadn't stopped.

"Help!" That was Kristy, who sounded like she was on the verge of tears. She was always more a cat person.

"Duty calls," she muttered, then proceeded to make her way up the track, where her two joined-at-the-hip friends were frozen out of fear of a Husky whose teeth could barely bite through butter.

* * *

Warren dashed up the Forest North of Ellinia. Balance was the key in traveling on the branches that made up the grounds. The leaves crunched softly under his feet as he ran, picking up speed as he went along…until he could hear nothing except the wind whistling in his ear. He kept his eyes shut as he sped along. He didn't have a destination; or rather, he didn't want to. All he wanted to do was run.

Idleness was a freedom he had long been denied in his life. For him, everything was a means to an end. And there was always an end in sight. However, every step he was forced to take toward it, it seemed to slip further and further away. Until it seemed it could never be reached. But they wouldn't stop; they'd sped him along in his life until they reached the end: either perfect happiness which continued to elude him or a crash landing in the middle of a barren desert where his soul would rot away until the sweet release of death.

Who's "they", you ask? They would be his parents. How cliché and predictable, right? Who doesn't have parents they wished they didn't need to deal with? Maybe he was just spoiled that way.

Warren grew up being told he was "special" and much more "unique" than the other children in the city. And because he was so "special" his parents took him away from those children in the city and forced him to sit with a girl they picked out in a mansion that grew on the side of a tall, sturdy tree in Ellinia. They were to chat over Orange Juice and Taffy, but quickly realized they had very little in common other than the fact that they were both from wealthy families with choices being taken away left and right. Warren wasn't even sure he really knew what the word "freedom" meant at the time, yet he was already being stripped of it. Before he knew it, he was in a black tuxedo, stuttering so badly he could barely say his own name, and in the end, just shoved a velvet blue box at the girl, who opened it to find a custom-made engagement ring; silver with a pink LUK Crystal and diamonds around the band.

That very ring was the reason why he was running like a madman through the same forests outside of Ellinia, dealing with people nobody wanted to be caught dead with.

"Warren! Hurry up!" Eero's face appeared in a window to his left. His navy blue eyes gave away the fact that he was practically simmering with anger. Warren tapped the window closed without saying a word. If another fight broke out between them, it could mean expulsion from the guild. And that would mean the end of his life.

He couldn't go back there; back to his family; to his "bride." Their future together was inevitable, but Warren would much rather put it off for as long as possible. It's like if someone was going to break your neck and they gave you a choice: break it right then and there, or give you two weeks to go on the run. Which would you choose? Warren would take anytime he could get his hands on.

He knew his fiancé was secretly pleased; she wanted out of the suffocating marriage just as much as he did. But neither of them were willing to throw in the towel and face a belittling lecture from their parents stressing the importance of the relationship. For Warren it'd be, "A man needs money first, then an attentive wife. Now if that wife already has money…" He couldn't even finish the thought. Warren may still be a kid in the eyes of his parents, but even he had pride, and it could only take so much.

"Warren! We're losin' 'em!" Eero's voice rang in, snapping him out of his tirade. The guy just couldn't take a hint, could he? The last time they fought, things got pretty ugly, pretty quickly. Their red-head Guild Master, Hudson, gave them his signature "get-it-together" look: head down, Steely throwing star in his left hand and his right hand sporting a claw clench into a fist, as he looked up at them through his bangs. His expression would be calm and his eyes betraying no emotion. But that was just the calming before the storm. Then he exploded, ripping into their every wound and weakness, unafraid to stick the proverbial knife where he knew it would hurt. He was ruthless, and while it made him a good leader, it also made him unreasonable, unpredictable, and most importantly, uncontrollable. Even his wife, Lexis, the quintessential trophy spouse with a blond Francesca haircut and thin baby blue eyes, was scarred of his temper, and, according to friends, rarely spoke to him about his work for fear of setting him off.

"Shut up!" Warren finally shouted back at Eero. The Night Walker smirked. He was trying to gauge that reaction from Warren. It was his plan all along to tick him off. But he was thankful for it. He always worked best under pressure. Warren shut the window and kept running. He saw Eero up ahead with Naiser and Dallam. Beside him, Raina, one of the few girls in the guild, ran up to him.

"Don't worry about him." The message appeared on his screen, and he looked over to see her smiling. He could feel her still starring at him as he passed her, running up to Eero, who was slightly shocked to see Warren caught so fast.

"You wanted me to hurry," Warren huffed. In front of them, their targets ran with all their strength, but it was clear their strength was running low. Their speed decreased little by little. Warren used his remaining Mana points to charge up Nimble Feet, a speed-increasing Skill. It gave a momentary boost of energy and his legs moved even faster. He passed Eero with a smirk of his own. As he ran up to their two targets, Warren pulled out a Ligator-skin sack, stretching it open.

"Make sure you don't take their heads off!" It was Naiser, who laughed at his own joke that nobody else found funny. But he was right. If they suddenly increased their speed, Warren did potentially have the strength to snap their necks while trying to secure the sack.

"Then go help him!" It was Eero. That message was probably the first helpful thing Warren had heard him say. Usually, whatever commands he gave out were to benefit himself and his image in front of Hudson, in hopes of a promotion. But this time, he was actually giving the gold star to someone else. It was something he thought he'd never see.

Naiser ran up to him. "What's the plan?" The message read. Well, he may be a bad comedian, but Naiser was a follower who could take orders and stick to strategies.

"Grab 'em by the arms!" Warren huffed out loud. "Then I'll put the bag over his head." Naiser nodded then ran up ahead. "Raina!" The girl pulled out the other sack they had brought along, seeing as there were two targets. "Dallam will grab the other one, and you secure the bag!"

Finally, Warren looked over at Eero, who gave him a submissive glance, signaling that he was ready to take orders. But there was also something accusing in his eyes; like he was saying, if Warren failed, it was all over. And he was probably right.

Hudson did not tolerate failure. This was the first real mission he had been given since he joined the guild. Before, he simply followed along and watched. During one, two of the members failed to accomplish their task. They were promptly carted off by Hudson's brothers Damarion and Remedy, a beefy Crusader with a Dusk Raven's Wing and a tall, skinny Dragon Knight with a Heavenly Messenger Polearm whose physical appearance, contrary to the name of his weapon, reminded Warren of the Grim Reaper. Expulsion wasn't enough as Hudson was extremely fearful of anyone finding out about his various "business ventures". It was probably the only thing in the world he was afraid of as Warren could not the Hermit being intimidated by anything else. Thus, failure (or worse, betrayal) resulted in "severe punishment," as described by Raina, which Warren thought was most likely code for "death." But he couldn't have the fear of failing impede his senses. All he could do was succeed…at all costs.

Warren pointed to the right of them. "There's a hidden portal by the clump of leaves up there! Use it to get ahead! Run back down and cut them off, and help the other hold 'em down while Raina and I catch up!" Eero nodded, then promptly disappeared into the portal.

"You sure this'll work?" Raina shouted. The wind that whistled in his ear made it difficult for him to even hear anything, but he smiled back reassuringly.

"Trust me!" He shouted.

"I do," Raina replied. "But I'm just worried that – "

"There they are!" Their conversation was cut short. Up ahead, the rest of their expedition stood with No. 41 and 42 in their iron grasp. They struggled, but it was no use. They were Beginners and Warren and his gang were Assassins and Bandits in harsh training. Warren and Raina ran up and pulled the bags over them before they had a good look at their kidnappers.

Eero picked up both of them by the arms and legs and tossed them into a crate. Sealing it shut, it promptly disappeared into his inventory. "Let's go," he said. He patted Warren on the shoulder and flashed him a proud smile as he passed.

Raina laughed. "You did it," she said, grinning. "Come on." She took Warren by the arm, leading him along. "Hudson's going to be so proud of you. You're his protégé; the one he handpicked to train alongside him. He'll be thrilled to see he made the right choice."

It was a big compliment. One that nearly everyone in his guild strived to obtain. Their leader was unusually fickle about what he considered a success and to be declared one was the highest honor you could achieve. So…why wasn't he happy? Why wasn't he beaming with pride like he thought he would? Or at the very least, breathing a sigh of relief that he would live to see another day. Warren wasn't sure, but something deep inside him churned uncomfortably. Was it guilt? It couldn't be. Warren chose this route for himself. He wanted to be in something risqué just to get away from the normality and confines of his life. He had no right to get cold feet just when things were looking up. He should have been thrilled to be accepted and to fit in and be successful at it… Warren heaved a sigh. Yeah, that's everything he should have been…but in the end, all he could think about what how this was all going to crash down around their ears. And Warren wasn't sure he could save it…or himself.

* * *

The golden arrow never showed up. Rollah spent day wandering the island (and nearly got mauled by a heard of Ribbon Pigs in Kerning Middle Forest), but found nothing that truly grabbed her interest. By the end, she was ready to consider being a Rogue because the expensive weapon was getting anxious sitting in her inventory. Perhaps the Maple Skanda wasn't just a gift from fate, but also a sign that being a Thief was the way to go. After all, what else would she do with the claw besides sell it?

But at the same time, something about it just…didn't feel right. Thieves, by nature, lived in the shadows, preferring solitude and discretion. Thieves did not expose themselves and had only an extremely tight-knit group of friends and didn't associate with strangers. Rollah had passed several while traveling the towns; Rogues, Assassins, Bandits, Night Walkers, and even a few Hermits. But all of them kept their eyes down or concentrating sharply at something and didn't speak. She heard people describe them as "unfriendly," another reason Rollah felt she might fit in well with them. But…but she didn't wanna be unfriendly! She wanted to talk to people and come off as sweet and gentle! She didn't wanna be called cold or emotionless. All Rollah wanted was to make a good impression on people. And…

Rollah pulled out the Maple Skanda from the inventory. She found a seat by a bale of hay in Henesys Train Ground I, pulling her feet up to avoid the Snails and Shrooms. She sighed. The claw proved to be little help. On the one hand, it presented her with a totally plausible option, one she should consider taking. But on the other hand, if the option just…didn't feel right… what should she do?

"Ouch!" Something pointy had collided with the backside of her head. Rubbing the sore spot, Rollah turned her head around to see who had hit her.

"Sorry!"

A nobody; he was weak; a Level 10 Archer probably just advanced. In his sweaty little palms was a shiny, blue War Bow and strapped to his back was a quiver of arrows. Rollah looked down to see one had fallen on the bale behind her. So that's what hit her. Picking it up, she held right under the sun. The finely carved, sharp metallic point glimmered under its rays of light.

"You want this back?" Rollah shouted at him, holding the single arrow up in the air.

The kid looked confused for a moment. "N-no," he stammered, "it's okay." He looked contemplative for a moment, probably wondering why in the world Rollah thought he would want a single arrow back when he had thousands sitting idly in his quiver. Well, it's his loss.

Smiling, Rollah ran her fingers up and down the smooth shaft of the pointer, enjoying how the shiny wood felt in her fingers. Then she began laughing; a big throaty laugh that erupted out of her seemingly from nowhere. Players stopped their activities for a moment to stare at her like she'd lost her mind, when in fact it seems she had found it. No, it didn't hit her like a rock from the sky; nor was the arrow big and golden that she just couldn't miss it. But it was still a sign. And it seemed this sign was much better fit than her last one. This suggestion might actually work out.


	2. Conspiracy

**Author's Note: **Okay, here's chapter two. If the ending's a little awkward, sorry; this and chapter three was originally one chapter, but I had to cut it into two parts because it was just _waaaay_ too long (well, it's still pretty long, I suppose, but its better!). Anyways...drop me a review, please~! ^^

**PS.** Yeah, with every story, the author needs to keep at least some grip on the rules of reality, but since this is a story that takes place mainly in the world of Maple Story, one can fudge some rules here and there, right? It's particularily hard, with Maple Story, to make it faithful to the rules of the game, yet not totally inconceivable in the real world. I've already been told that there are some aspects that seem out of place (such as characters having seemingly magical and invisible Inventories, which I added because...well, how else were they gonna carrying everything around? A burlap sack just didn't seem very convenient, or big enough to put everything in. Not to mention unsafe; I've had things literally lifted out of my bag while walking down the street, before, FYI xDD) But I figure if an Archer can light an arrow on fire with Mana points, an invisible inventory wouldn't be _that_ far-fetched, right? ^^;;

Also, if something seems amiss, either with character, plot, or just a small detail about the world in which my story is set, feel free to pointed it out. I'll answer you if I can, and if not...well, you're welcome to make up some of your explanations or simply suspend you're disbelief long enough to get through the story xDD

**Chapter 2: Conspiracy **

"Guide to the Bowman," Rollah read aloud. "Becoming an Archer; Pros and Cons; yadda yadda yadda…aha! Archer Skills! Now if I can just find…"

Becoming an Archer hadn't been as easy as she thought it would. It's not like Athena made her pass a test to see if she met her personal requirements for a student, but the Bowman Master hadn't exactly been supportive either. She gave Rollah an all knowing eyebrow raise as she looked at her palm. Then she "Hm"-ed and asked if Rollah was really sure she wanted to become an archer. Once she chose, she couldn't go back, you know. But Rollah was confident; so confident in fact that she pulled out the arrow that struck in the head.

"I've got it all right here," she replied, twirling the arrow in her free hand. Uhg, sometimes confidence was really burdensome. Especially if they made you say stupid things like that.

Athena merely blinked at her, unsure of what a little wooden arrow was supposed to represent. Rollah quickly caught herself and said that, yes she really wanted to be an Archer. The Bow Master looked up at her through her bangs and shook her head slowly. She mumbled something but Rollah didn't quite hear. All she cared about was the mark on her palm after Athena was finished. She gave Rollah a weary look, but even that couldn't bring down her mood. She raced out with a quick "thank you" and headed straight for the market to buy her first bow.

Extremely eager, she immediately tried firing a few shots at Pigs and Orange Mushrooms at the relatively empty Henesys Training Ground II. Well, that went over about as well as you'd imagine. It wasn't that she didn't know what she was doing; she could fire an arrow and have it hit the target just fine; it's just that…she _really_ had no idea what she was doing. Arrows launched and they hit stuff but…how in the world was it going to be effective if she was going up against, oh say, a Drake in the Tunnel that Lost Light I, fifteen caverns deep into the Ant Tunnel? A Drake, if you didn't know, was a giant dragon-like creature. It didn't roar, it didn't run very fast, but its main (and effective) weapon was its exceptionally large appetite and razor sharp teeth.

By her fifth kill, she was already exhausted, having used up half her potions and about 90% of her arrows. Thus, Rollah decided it was time to stick to old faith: learning by the book rather than self-experimentation that usually involved pain being inflicted. Yeah, the saying was "no pain, no gain," but pain was something she had made her life's mission to avoid whenever possible.

"Okay," she sighed. "Arrow Blow: Concentrating your Mana into your arrow." How the flying Fruit Cake was she supposed to do that? "Step one: Visualize you prey." Orange Mushroom with its omnipresent smile that both mocked her and creeped her out; check! "Step two: Focus on the weapon in your hand." Bow and arrow; check! "Step three: Take a deep, calming breath; relax your hand; and focus your Mana and mould it into the arrow." Okay, she was totally lost.

Nonetheless, Rollah shut the book and stood, her War Bow poised in ready with an arrow strung. She closed her eyes and took a breath._ Focus! Focus… _"Focus…"she began mumbling. Ah, this was no use. It wasn't working; she couldn't "feel" anything let alone mould it! Maybe she was missing something; a finer detail that –

"Ah! Hot!" Her arrow started to burn; like, ready to burn her fingers off. Rollah unintentionally released the arrow in her surprise. The force sent her flying back a few feet and she landed with a thump on her butt. Great… Well, at least she was alone.

However, the embarrassment was wiped clean when she looked back up to see her arrow, white and flaming, cutting through the air like a steak knife. Although it was brief, Rollah was sure it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. The Orange Mushroom, her target, was hit with a squeal and melted away, leaving behind an Orange Mushroom Cap and a few mesos. Rollah always wondered where the monsters got the potions and mesos it occasionally dropped. Her father was frank when he told her that they often raided shops and stole whatever they could find. She guessed it was an attempted to scare into focusing on her job rather than just finding a way to make mesos fast, like opening a shop. Well, it worked.

"Nice job!" A voice in the distance called out.

Rollah looked up to see a Level 73 Fire/Poison Mage sitting on a bale of hale, waving at her. A Fire/Poison Mage was waving at her? That's new. She thought Mages didn't like anybody except other Mages and Clerics. Or maybe that was just the bias of the group of Warrior girls she overheard saying it.

"Th-thanks," Rollah stuttered.

He hoped off the bale of hay and climb down to the first platform, where Rollah stood dumbly, unsure of what to do next. Her Arrow Blow worked; minus the fact that she had to figure out how much Mana to charge into it so she doesn't burn her fingers off. If nothing else happened to her, then she'd considered the day a success.

"You put a little too much into it, I think," he said, grinning.

Yeah, her fingers, the pads still red and tingly, told her the same thing. "I figured as much," she replied. Well, unless you're supposed to go flying backwards after every shot. In which case, the Hunter mortality rate must be through the roof.

"All it takes is practice," he said, still smiling. "You'll get it eventually."

"You think so?" At that point, Rollah wasn't so sure.

"Definitely," he replied. "The first time I tried using Energy Bolt at a Slime, I used too much Mana that it blasted out of my wand and bounced off a tree. I think it hit me in the head."

"You think?" Rollah asked, confused. A head injury seemed like something one would remember.

"I'm not sure what happened. I woke up in my house three days later with a nasty scar on my noggin." He lifted his hair to show a red, crescent gash on the left side of his head.

Curiously, Rollah put her non-burnt finger up to it, tracing it lightly. A wound like that was terrible to receive; probably pretty painful. But she couldn't help but feel that it was…beautiful. It was a sign of bravery; a sign that even though he's been hurt, he still survived. And that, to her, was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him looking at her funny, before realizing how out of line she was.

Pink-faced, she stepped back. "That must've hurt," she said.

He nodded, and he kept smiling at her…to the point that it sort of…creeped her out. He was just being friendly, she knew; but there was such a thing as too friendly. Rollah still wasn't sure why he was talking to her in the first place; or why he was here. At Level 78, the Henesys Training Ground was useless to him. Then it was silent; he had stopped talking. _Oh, no, say something; anything. Oh, come on! There is nothing you can say that could be worse than this silence. _Hm, is this why she was considered cold? Because she couldn't carry on a conversation for more than a few minutes? Because she always ended up doing something that made the other person uncomfortable?

"Uh…I'm Rollah!" She stuck out her non-blistered hand at him, smiling like she had slept with a coat hanger in her mouth. Friendliness was something that took time and practice to perfect; just like her Archer Skills (at least, according to Fire/Poison Mage). Hey, she wasn't born just oozing charisma like some people.

The Mage's smile faltered, dropping a little as he looked back and forth between her and her out stretched hand. Yeah, she really shouldn't have said anything. Luckily, he was gracious about it. "I'm Noxious," he replied.

_Strange name_, Rollah thought. Then again, it's not like Chocorollah (her full name) was any simpler. "So…why are you here?" Rollah prayed to Zakum that, that didn't come off sounding condescending or nosy or intrusive or…how else it could come off sounding. He led them to a rock, off to the side of platform, where he sat down comfortably. It was difficult for Rollah to sit on, to say the least. The rock was rough and damp. And she didn't even wanna think about whether or not that was water or – No, it was water. Don't even think about it. It was _water_! Hm, what was he saying again?

"I'm visiting my sister," he replies, still smiling. "She lives here in Ellinia."

"Oh, so you don't live here?" Rollah mentally slapped herself across the face. Duh! Of course he didn't live there! Why does she keep asking these redundant questions? Oh, right; because she wanted to keep the conversation going. Hm, at this rate, he won't think she's cold, oh no; he'll just think he's extremely spaced out.

"No," he replied with a chuckle. "I have a place in Orbis."

"Really?" Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. It was like flashing a shiny object at a child; or one of those magic act assistants who was really good at pretending to be surprised at the tricks. Hm, note to all magic act performers: get yourself a Rollah!

But she had a good reason to react that way. Orbis was number two on her list of places she wanted to visit when she got to Level 30. Number one was Ludibrium. A place constructed entirely of Lego and plastic toys; where the monsters were all teddy bears and pandas and toy helicopters? Who wouldn't wanna see that?

"Yeah," he said. "It's a nice place too; really big. I live with friends though. I'd never be able to afford it on my own; even with my brother helping me."

"You have a brother too?" Rollah asked. Part of her pitied him now. Siblings were burdensome and annoying. She should know.

"Yeah," he replied, grinning. "He's this big guy; a Level 180 Paladin. He sends me and my sister mesos every time we level. He says it alright since he's loaded, but we both know it's just 'cause he likes to brag about it."

"Well, still that's pretty nice of him. I don't know about you, but I don't know too many older brothers who care enough to send mesos." Rollah never took notice of people bragging to her. If someone were to offer something because they wanna show off what they have, Rollah wasn't going to complain and reject it just because the person wasn't sincere about why they were giving to her. Sure, one person's trash was another person's treasure, but would really turn down a diamond ring someone gave you because the karat was smaller than another one they had?

"You'd think it's 'cause he cared," Noxious continued, "but really he's just following our parents orders. When we left to come here, they made him promise to take care of me and my sister. But he just dumped us of here and left for Neo City with his friends, basically telling us to fend for ourselves. He sends mesos as a way of reminding us that, telling us to use it buy supplies and equipment and make sure we don't end up on the streets."

"Hmph," Rollah huffed. Rollah knew just how he felt, having gone through a similar experience (well, sort of). Thus, she had a really hard time feeling sorry for the Mage, who looked over at her in surprise at her response. She told him as much when she said, "I'm sorry," dropping all attempts to be friendly. Honesty and confidence was sort of her policy, even if it was at the expense of coming off cold and unfeeling. "But I really can't sympathize with you there."

For a moment, Noxious's face didn't change; he still looked shocked. But it slowly morphed into an arrogant smirk. Rollah guessed it meant he liked her bluntness.

"I have a sister," she explained. "Her name's Llorah. Before I came here, my mom made her promise to take of me and show me around; make sure I don't get mauled by a herd of Boars, and stuff like that. She agreed and made arrangement to meet me at Lith Harbor. But on the ride there, I got a message from her saying something had come up and that she couldn't make it. She didn't even bother explaining; just left a note and told me to be careful."

Noxious let out a low whistle. "Ouch, that's harsh." He looked surprised, and…well, sorta sad. Rollah guessed it wasn't everyday he met someone like her.

"Not really," Rollah shrugged. "I kinda saw it coming. My mom asks her to take of me and she says yes to appease her. Then, some "emergency" comes up last minute and she tells me she can't make and to just take care of myself. By the time I docked at the Harbor, I'd forgotten she was even supposed to meet me."

Still, the Mage shook his head in disbelief, but that was common when she told stories like this. If the Mage decided to stay, Rollah was sure she could totally bum him out with her family stories. "So," he said, "she hasn't called or sent anything since?"

Rollah shot him a "are you serious?" look. But maybe Noxious honestly couldn't fathom the idea. Obviously, he came from a well-to-do family that gave away money at whim, thinking it's the answer to everything. But Rollah, hmph, her family taught her and her sister to salvage for every last meso they could find and take nothing for granted. Whatever Llorah had, she earned with her own blood, sweat, and tears. By her rules, she wasn't entitled to give any of it away to her kid sister. She lived life the hard way, and so would Rollah.

Noxious took that as a resounding "no."

"Yep," she sighed. "So, if you were thinking of competing with me to see who has the lousier sibling, then I win by a long shot." Though, Rollah wasn't sure that, that was something to be proud of exactly.

But he chuckled, nodding his head in agreement. "Well, here," he said, pulling out a brown, worn-out sack, and it jingled as he handed it to her. There were no markings or anything on it to indicate the contents of the mysterious bag. Rollah merely stared at it for a moment unsure of what to do. She had spent the last…twenty minutes talking Noxious, but did she really know him well enough to say he's not some addict or unstable guy out to get people?

"Take it." He said, reassuring her with that graceful smile on his face. He was being unconditionally kind to her. Most people would accept it, thanking them profusely. But the fact that, that smile had been on face practically the entire time just made Rollah more suspicious of him. She began wondering what his deal was. Why was he so _happy_?

In the end, she still took it. It was heavier than it looked. But before she could open it, Noxious stood up from where he sat, glancing around at the Pigs and Orange Mushrooms that spawned on the platform. "Hopefully, it makes up for your sister abandoning you," he said. "Now if you'll excuse me."

He pulled something else out; this time, a white Table Cloth, and handed it to, instructing her to cover her nose. Rollah wondered what he was going to do that was so terrible that she had to cover her nose. Hm, she guessed the fact that he's a Fire/Poison Mage slipped her mind. Uhg, being curious is a good thing, but one should always keep him mind that it also killed the cat. Or in this case, choked it to death.

Noxious closed his eyes for a moment and mumbled something incoherent (that, or too fast for her to hear). Then a gaseous bubble erupted from his shiny, golden Fairy Wand. Several creatures drop dead and the entire area was covered by a thick, green mist that emitted a foul odor. The Mage gave her a sheepish grin, before shouting "See ya around!" with his finger still pinching his nose.

It took Rollah a moment before realizing that she was still bathing in the foul, green, stench, and made her up a level. Once in the clear, she dropped the cloth, tucking it away, and inhaled a much need breath of fresh air. Mm… You never realize the smaller things in life until you're denied access to them. She found a relatively comfy seat off to the side, where she sat down and finally got to opening and seeing the contents of the bag.

Bringing it up to her ear, she shook a couple times, giggling when it jingled. She slowly undid the string at the top and pulled it open _just_ slightly enough for her to peek… But it was no use when she couldn't see anything in there. She opened it a bit wider and reached her hand in. Nothing; or rather, oblivion was what she felt. The sack was bottomless; she almost had her entire arm in and still nothing. She sighed. "I guess we're going in head first," she muttered, pulling the sack open.

Her reward? A big puff of smoke blown right into her face. What kind of gift was that? Or did he think it was supposed to be funny because he's a guy an evidently, guys finds things funny that girl merely found gross and/or disturbing. Suddenly (after she was coughing and rubbing her eyes clear), she realized her lap had gotten lighter. Once the smoke clear, she saw the sack was gone. Was it a prank? Uhg, yeah never trust people you've known for only twenty minutes.

Still, Rollah opened up her inventory to see if maybe it disappeared in there. Well, it sort of did. No, the bag wasn't there, but its contents were. But at the bottom, in the tiny rectangular box that detailed how many mesos she had in her account, she discovered five million extra. She bare had ten thousand before that!

Rollah could barely form a coherent sentence in her shock. "I-I can't…this…oh, my…!" She couldn't keep it, was what she was trying to say. A Rouge and a Pirate, just arrived, stopped what they were doing just long enough to cast Rollah a strange look at her sputtering about. Embarrassed, Rollah turned her back to them and went back to worrying about mesos.

She couldn't keep it. It was wrong! It wasn't hers; she didn't earn it! She couldn't keep. She had to give it back… but Noxious was already gone. Dashed through the thick green fog (which still hadn't completely cleared) down the portal to who-knows-where! But she still couldn't keep it! Besides, she didn't know where it came from. What if Noxious was a con man who stole from some guy? And he just dumped it off, pretending to be friendly, so he'd be off the hook? What if –

Rollah stopped herself short and sighed. Paranoia was not flattering on anyone. She could already feel the Rogue and the Pirate starring holes into her backside. She turned around and gave them a glare of her own; a kinder way of saying, "Shut up and go away already!" It did the trick, as the two immediately averted their eyes.

What was she going to do with five million? No, she couldn't keep it. It'd be wrong and potentially dangerous; the world two worst combinations. Well, actually mixing ElectroJuice and BlastoJuice was the worst combination (don't ask; drank her sister's potion experiment; ruining it and her stomach; and now she doesn't like juice in general so much). But wrong and dangerous came in at a close second!

Maybe she could give it to charity! A donation like that to Dalair was sure to give her an edge for the Donation King medal (Hm, how sexist right? They have a Donation King but no Donation Queen! However, she supposed if she won, King or Queen wouldn't really matter so much). But then again…well, a wise man once said that the best charity of all is oneself. And Noxious did seem like a pretty nice guy… Maybe she should just keep it. She paused for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut, and waited for some booming sign to tell her it was wrong. Hm, strange, nothing happened. She remembered being told growing up that if you agreed to commit a wrongdoing an Arch Mage would strike you with a Thunderbolt on Zakum's behalf. This must mean that it wasn't wrong to keep it; or at least, it's not so bad. Or maybe the Mage was just taking a potion break and forgot to check in.

Either way, Rollah resolved to think of it as a blessing in disguise. Oh, the fog's cleared! Rollah hoped down to the ground and skipped her way to the portal. The two continued to stare at her, but Rollah didn't mind it this time. As long as she was happy, people could stare all they wanted and she didn't a Dark Ratz behind as to what they thought!

* * *

A cold sweat trickled down Warren's neck. Raina squeezed his arm reassuringly as they entered in behind Naiser and Dallam, and followed by Eero, who presented the wooden crate before their frightening leader. A constant banging could be heard being emitted from it.

"They're in there?" Hudson asked, a little skeptical.

Warren could almost hear Eero gulped as he nodded. Uhg, was it just him or was it getting really stuffy in there? The tension was mounted high and thick, enough that a blade could slice right through it like a big cake you'd present at someone execution if you really hated them enough and wanted to mock then one last time before they're big exit.

The sight of Hudson would make anyone's skin crawl. Just one glance at him commanded total obedience. Whatever he asked, however crazy, implausible, or even suicidal, you did not fight him. If you did, you lost. No, he never actually fought for himself, but he had an arsenal of people who would do his bidding. As if to remind them of that, his brothers, Damarion and Remedy stood at his sides, weapons in hand and ready. Remedy, a tall skinny man, with a skull-like face, smirked at Eero, his bony fingers drumming the handle of his Heavenly Messenger Polearm. Wonder if it is hard to clean blood off a blade?

"We found them in Ellinia," Naiser, now uncharacteristically solemn and mature, offered. Dallam and Raina nodded. It was a moment before Warren realized he was the odd man out, for he was the only one looking spaced out and didn't nodded along.

"Something you'd like to say, Warren? Are they lying?" Hudson looked over at the Rogue, who stood, scared stiff.

Uhg, yeah, this was a really bad idea. He should just get out…get out before everything came to a crash landing. But…the whole reason why he was in this mess came creeping back into his head; the images of his bride looking at him with the same haughty looked she gave everyone. It was the ultimate "un-sult"; a cleverly sly put-down without actually saying anything. She gave that look while he had to pretend to be gracious about it and look stoic and content. Stupid parents; stupid rules; stupid – Hm, where was he again? Oh, right, Hudson, crate, lies.

Raina's eyes widened at the accusation Warren had unintentionally planted in Hudson's mind by not nodding along with them. Warren saw her gestured at him, silently urging him to tell the truth.

"N-no," Warren finally replied. "That's right. When we found them, they tried to lose us in trees." Seeing the hot waters everyone was dunked into when Warren was not in physical agreement with them, this time, everyone's heads bobbed up and down enthusiastically (well, as enthusiastic as they could be).

"I see," he said slowly, nodding. Remedy shot them a look, his straight, angular nose upturned as he looked down at them, as if telling them they got lucky. And he was right.

If Hudson did not believe them, then that was it. Right now, instead of looking at a fearsome leader and his two goons, the last thing everyone would see is Remedy's blade brought up over his shoulder, then swung back down aimed right at their necks.

"So, how was he?" He jerked his head at Warren. All eyes landed on him, and Warren gulped, taking an involuntary step backward. "This was your first solo mission."

Hudson's gaze was locked firmly on Warren, who simply stood frozen with fear, trying to ignore the beads of sweat that slowly trickled down his face. He wondered if his perspiration problem was noticeable.

"A good leader needs courage," Hudson continued. "They need to rise above fear, doing whatever is necessary to ensure victory and survival." Everyone nodded along, all eyes still on Warren, whose own was locked on the fearsome red-head sitting a few feet away. "And above all," he said, "a good leader needs to command obedience. People must choose to follow him." It was no wonder Hudson thought all these traits were required in superior leadership. Those were all qualities he himself possessed. "So how was he?"

Eero cleared his throat and glanced at Warren. One looked at him told you he was scared and nervous; and it told you that he was silently begging the Night Walker not to screw him over. "He was…" Eero paused, turning his head back around to face Hudson. "…an exceptional leader. I believe he's a good fit for the guild."

Then Hudson broke out into a laugh; a big one, unprecedented. By the looks of things, it was clear no had heard him laugh like that before. It was…almost cheerful; it sounded happy. Those were two words Warren never though he would use to describe a guy like Hudson. At that point, everyone began chuckling nervously, afraid to insult Hudson by not laughing at his joke or something. It was okay to tell Naiser flat-out that he wasn't funny, but if Hudson told a joke, he would laugh, and _everybody_ laughs with him until their faces hurt. "Wonderful," he sighed. "I'm glad to know my streak of never being wrong has not been broken by you, Warren." He flashed a smile at the Rogue, who smiled back shyly. Nobody missed the underlying threat of that message.

"Now, where is it?" He asked. His voice was back to being civil and calm, and he sat relaxed and at ease, seemingly oblivious to everyone sweating and scared, cowering before him. It was truly amazing how one person could wield so much power and command so much fear from a group of people.

Everyone was silent. It seemed nobody had any idea what "it" was. If they didn't say something, he'd assume they lost or broke or, worst of all, sold it for a profit. And that was cause for immediate expulsion and dealing of the "severe punishment." On the other hand, if they asked him what he was referring to…well, the outcome depended very much on his mood that day.

"W-what?" Raina asked timidly. Okay, that's good. Hudson went easier on her than he did anyone else. Was it because she was a girl? Or did he just favor her? Warren didn't know, and at that point, he couldn't care less.

"My claw," Hudson said. His voice was still calm and even, but it and his expression suddenly turned dark when it became evident that no one knew what he was talking about. He growled, "My Maple Skanda. You did find it on them didn't you?" Everybody stood stiff as the statues of Orbis Tower; no one moved a muscle. "Warren?" he said. "Where's my claw? As leader, did you forget to check their inventories before taking them?" His voice rose word by word, until he practically screamed the last word at them. He stood, stomping over to the meek Rogue, who did his best to look brave. A good leader needed to rise above fear, right? Do whatever's necessary to ensure victory and survival.

But even then, the room suddenly got even stuffier, as Hudson rose to his full height, towering over everyone, and walked over to the Rogue. They all backed away from Warren, not wanting to be too close by in case Hudson really lost it. The Hermit stopped a foot away from him, leaning down until his face was mere inches away from his. "If they don't have it," he breathed, his breath reeking of too much garlic on his Fish Cake, the Hermit's favorite dish, "then we have no use for them. I don't need the GMs breathing down my neck." _Funny you should mention the word breath_, Warren groaned_, uhg, something I am having a very difficult time doing!_

"U-um," Warren stammered. "I…I checked. It wasn't on them," he admitted. Raina looked at him shocked, her bright blue eyes showing nothing except for pure, genuine fear for Warren and his head (which may be close to being sliced off). For one thing, he was lying to Hudson's face; and worse still, admitting something like that, after Hudson specifically said (well, implied) that it lead to no place good or safe, was like signing his own execution warrant. Behind him, Remedy's smiled grew wider as he twirled his Heavenly Messenger.

Hudson's eyes narrowed down at him, but he said nothing. The scowl grew even more fearsome (if that was possible), however, and it seemed, that was all Warren needed to know the leader was not happy about the situation. Perhaps "not happy" was putting it much too lightly, as the Hermit turned and was read to his throne-like seat.

"B-but," Warren attempted to explain. Hudson's back was already turned, ready to go back, though he stopped when Warren began to speak, something he would eternally thankful for. "We…we didn't…" he paused and sucked a deep breath. "We didn't have too much luck…getting them to tell us what they did with it. So…we brought them back here. We…" Out of the corner of his, he saw both Eero and Naiser shaking their heads, eyes wide and fearful (and bewildered with anger, in the case of Eero). "I," he corrected, "_I _thought maybe…you could make them tell. After all…you are much more persuasive when it comes to people." Well, it wasn't totally a lie, although "persuasive" was hardly an appropriate word when it came Hudson trying to get the truth out of someone. Plus, worded like that, it came off as a compliment to the burly Hermit, who always looked to be sucked up to.

Hudson let out a small chuckle as he turned back around to face Warren, who immediately averted his gaze to a speck of dirt on the floor. Part of him wasn't expecting his half-truth, half-compliment statement to work. But then, the Hermit spoke.

"Alright," he said. "Let's see how tough they are."

Huh? Warren lifted his head slowly to see the leader instruct two lackey Rogues to bring the crate closer and lift the lid open with a Spear. It worked? Hudson believed him? Warren let out a quiet sigh of relief. He was in the clear…for the moment. Hm, Hudson was terrifying and he knew where to hit someone to hurt them the most, but this was one of many occasions that showcased the fact that he doesn't really dig deep. He only ever realizes failure when it's undeniably clear. Thus, Warren wondered just how many times have guild members gotten away with messing up missions? And is that why Remedy always looked so sour-faced? Because he realizes things his two beefy brothers constantly over look, yet he's is unable to point them out, fearing Hudson's wrath?

Suddenly, Warren's breath was caught in his throat; it was a realization that may have come too late. When they caught No. 41 and 42, they actually _did_ forget to check their inventories. Warren had made up that who scenario to avoid explaining his carelessness. But…but what if they did have the claw? Hudson would have Warren's head delivered to him a silver platter for lying to him. And presumably, he'd want the rest of the expedition's heads as well for going along with it, or for not speaking up when they knew I was lying through my teeth. Five people (including him) would all be dead and it'd be all his fault.

The sound of wood splintering brought him out of his self-induced nightmare. The crate was open. Everyone shot him a glance, each exhibiting different emotions: fear, anger, confusion, pity; it was all there. Two identical bald heads looked at them, eyes wide with fear and anxiety. Hm, well, at least he wouldn't be scared crap-less alone. Remedy stepped forward, sneering down at them as he placed a hand on their forehead. Two windows popped open to the right of Warren's vision. In the first, there was a Razor and a Brown Skull Cap; in the second, a Wooden Club and a Green Headband. But best of all, there was no Maple Skanda.

At this revelation, Warren let out a second sigh of relief. Okay, _now_ he was in the clear. Hudson seemed satisfied that Warren had told the "truth" and gave him a curt nod. Warren guessed it was the closest he was going to get to an apology.

"Get up, boys," Remedy commanded. It was the first time Warren had heard him speak…and he did not care for it! The Dragon Knight stressed the consonants at the end of a word, making it sound clipped, and his voice was low and vibrated. But what creeped him out the most was the fact that he slithered his "S"s like a snake. All that combined did nothing to change Warren's mentality that he resembled the Grim Reaper.

Slowly, they emerged from the wooden box, slightly wobbly from lack of rest and nourishment, probably. They stood before Hudson, who sat with a calming expression on his face. Uhg, Warren hated it when he was calm. It never meant that he was at peace. The calm face always led to some sort of blow-up, and Warren truly felt sorry for No. 41 and 42.

"Well?" he asked. "Where is it?"

No. 41 looked over at his brother, urging him to speak. 42's breath suddenly picked up, faster and faster until Warren thought he might pass out. "Um…"

No one else spoke. Hudson merely raised an eyebrow at them, but Warren could tell he was slowly losing his patience with them. It was extremely thin, and extremely easy to wear out. Remedy tisked.

"I don't think you boys realize just how…_special_ that was to my brother," he said, sneering at them. "He's _very_ upset with you."

_Uhg, here come the chills…_ Warren thought, with a shudder.

The minutes ticked away. They still wouldn't speak. Hudson was just about ready to blow his top at their stubbornness. Warren was extremely anxious. He wanted to tell them to just spit it out. If they told the Hermit the truth, he _might_ spare their lives for at least being honest when they've made a mistake. But if they just flat out refused, well, then Hudson really had no other options.

"Warren!"

"Huh? Yes?" Warren snapped back up, giving his full attention back where it belonged.

"My claw," he said, his voice shaking, the bottle containing his anger ready to burst. "Can you trace it with the scroll?"

The scroll? Oh… "Y-yeah," the Rogue nodded. "I'll um…" Oh, shoot. He completely forgot he had lent it to Chaunti's brother! The air-headed, obnoxious, philandering Mage, who was addicted to _highly_ concentrated potion pills and spent upwards of 500 000 mesos each level traveling to Ludibrium and back to buy them…yeah, good choice, Warren. "I've got it in storage. I'll…have someone deliver it here." Yeah, that sounded plausible. Plus, it bought him some time to contact Noxious. "Hold on."

Quickly, he slipped out of the small mushroom hut and out into the Henesys Market. He placed a hand over his eye to shield the glaring sunlight. Hudson couldn't risk holding the interrogation at their guild HQ for fear of the "other" members catching them. Not everyone in the guild knew of Hudson's schemes; the "others" were members he recruited to act as a front for GMs in case of inspection. Everyone was told, upon entry, to be very careful what they said around the "others."

Warren opened his messenger, and contacted Noxious. He had heard the Mage was on the island, and hopefully, he had the scroll with him. "Noxious!" he called. "Nox! Can you hear me?"

The Mage came into view of the screen, his face pale and lanky. His pupils were unusually large and seemed to have been lacking sleep somehow. "What?" he replied.

"The scroll," Warren immediately asked. "Do you have the scroll I gave you?" He had no time to humor Nox for he was on a _very_ tight schedule. Warren slightly prayed to the Horn Tail that Noxious had the stupid scroll on him.

Instead, Noxious laughed. Warren could see he was in the Henesys Training Ground I, and behind him, several people stopped to see what was so funny. Was Nox high or something? "Relax, my soon-to-be brother. You're so wound up! You know what you need? A _long_ vacation," he said, stretching the word "long" to three syllables, "someplace nice, like…the beach!" He paused to let out a dramatic gasp. "Florina Beach! We should all go; it'll be like a family trip. We'll invite your parents; we'll invite my parents; we'll invite everybody!" Yeah, definitely high on something.

"Nox!" Warren called. He failed to grab the Mage's attention, who giggled and waved at some girls passing by. They shot him a look that said "go away" very clearly. Uhg, he didn't have time for this! "Nox!"

"Beautiful…but none of 'em holds a candle to my sister…right, Warren?" Okay, now the Rogue was worried. Beautiful? He hated Chaunti's appearance after she had her entire face reconstructed with plastic surgery. That word was the last word he would ever use to describe his sister, who now looked…how could he put this? Let's just say, this time, the sum of the parts was actually _worse_ than the pieces that formed it.

"Nox…okay, Nox…stop it!" Warren shouted at him, who started throwing snail shells at a group of Archers that pointed at him, whispering. "Stop! Let it go, Noxious!" The Mage turned his attention back to Warren, frowning. Warren frowned too. Usually, when he was high on pills, Noxious was a pain in the behind, but he was never physically aggressive. If anything, he was mellow and depressing. "Okay, seriously, Nox; what did you take and how many?"

The Mage shook his head. "Just the usual," he said, waving Warren off. "And I did not take that many! I had like…ten…or fifty."

"Noxious!" Uhg, it seemed he was impossible to figure out yet even more impossible to get through to and control! But he definitely did not have time to spend on something that probably wouldn't change in the next few minutes. "You know what, forget it," Warren said, giving up. "Just give me my scroll back! I'm at the Henesys Market; can you drop it off?"

Nox nodded. "Sure," he mumbled. He seemed a little saddened by Warren's implication that he was a lost cause (which Warren, sadly, had to admit was true). "Although do you want the scroll and the mesos or – "

"Just the scroll," Warren cut him off.

Then Nox began laughing again. "Good," he giggled, "Because I gave like…half of it away to some Archer chick."

What? That piqued Warren's interest. "You gave your mesos away?" Why did he do that? And more importantly, how did his brain let him? Nox was extremely careful about his mesos and kept a tight rein on it. He rarely ever gave it away to anybody, not even to charity.

"I met this girl," he said, his eyes distant and glazed over. "She was…she was so sad. Her family seemed even worse than ours, if you can believe it."

Ah, that answered everything. Chaunti had told him that family trouble was Nox's weak point. If you could appeal to his sympathies there, he'd be putty in your hands. It explained why he was so close with Chaunti…and why he liked Warren so much. At the end of the day, they were all in the same boat, headed for an iceberg the size of Victoria Island. "Oh, I see," he replied, unsure of what else to say. "Um…just…just bring the scroll." Nox nodded.

Warren shut the screen. He sighed. A family worse than theirs? He couldn't fathom the idea. Who could have a family that was worse than one who lived in own perfect bubble? Just thinking of his family gave him a headache.

By that point, Warren thought the worst thing a person could be was ignorant; turning their heads away at the flaws and choosing only to see what they want to see. That was the reasoning behind their families pushing the union; because evidently, they chose to see him and Chaunti as the perfect couple. Then again, this marriage was mainly a business deal and not a love match. So perhaps they didn't see them as a couple more than just a good way to tie up a business deal. Is that why rich people had kids? So that if they needed something sealed, nice and pat with a big pink bow, they can just marry them off?

"Warren!"

It was Duey, probably with Noxious's package. He silently thanked the Horn Tail; for both Nox bringing the scroll and…well, distracting him. The delivery boy's omnipresent smile was plastered on his as he waved at the sulky Rogue with his clipboard. He had a small wooden box in his other hand. Slowly, Warren stood up and walked over to the large truck, where dozens of packages sat stacked up, waiting to be retrieved.

"Package delivery from Noxious," he said.

Warren nodded, taking the small box out of his hand. He brought it up to his ear and shook it, pleased when it rattled.

"Sign this," Duey handed the Rogue a clipboard with a piece of paper. On it was a boxed paragraph, saying something about acknowledgments and how they held no responsibility for injury or pranks or…something to that effect. Below it was a dotted line with an "x" on the left side where Warren signed his name. "Thanks."

Warren was pretty confident it was the scroll, but he wasn't going to make the same careless mistake. Taking a seat just outside the mushroom hut, he tore off the tape and flipped open the flaps. He let out a sigh of relief when inside sat a reddish brown piece of paper rolled up into a scroll. Then he walked back inside, the scroll clutched tight in his hands like he was afraid it was disappear if he loosened his grip.

When he got to the door, he paused, taking a moment to compose himself. He had a good idea what Hudson's brothers were capable of, but Warren wasn't so sure he wanted to confirm it with his own eyes. But he had to go in sometime. Gentle, he pushed open one of the double doors, just enough for him to peek inside. At the back, the small strip of light illuminated a sliver of Hudson's face, set in a menacing scowl, and Warren could just make out the fact that he was waving him in. Warren gulped.

* * *

"Thank you," Rollah called out to the land owner as he left. He had been very gracious when Rollah told him she wanted to upgrade her house, from the stuffy little Mushroom hut to one of the mini palaces just outside Mushroom Castle. With five million at her disposal, why shouldn't she get a little extravagant? She had spent all her life living on bare necessities, never getting to enjoy the luxuries that a child should get to experience. Her new home, large with four spacious rooms and a spectacular view of fields, was her own way of making it up to her inner child that was deprived of its rights to be a little spoiled.

Rollah had pretty much everything she needed moved in and put away. She smiled. The day just kept getting better and better, huh? All of her meso troubles were gone; she had a comfy house; she learned a new Skill; she…was hungry? Her stomach growled and rumbled as if to confirm her suspicion. Well, she hadn't really eaten breakfast; and even if she did, Rollah was sure it was past lunch time.

Happily, she walked out the door and skipped across the lush, green fields that separated the town from her new home. She was confident that nothing could ruin her day or her mood. Everything she needed up to that point was at her finger tips. And she wasn't a total glutton, so it wasn't like she was going to blow all her mesos on fancy food and expensive clothes. The house…well, the house was just a luxury that was long overdue.

"Hello?" Rollah pushed open the door to the potions shop, the little bell over the door ringing to signal her arrival. Luna, the shop keeper, was a crusty old brood, and disliked young adventurers because they liked to steal her stuff; like, all adventurers. Apparently, it was an assumption she made after a ground of Bandits raided the place one night when she forgot to lock up.

Luna said nothing as Rollah walked over the counter. Behind her, on display in a glass case locked up tight, were all the things they sold at the shop.

"Hi," Rollah said, trying to be friendly. Nope; it didn't work. Luna simply sighed, and coughed. "Um…I'll have…ten Meats, two Eggs, three Apples, an Orange…oh, and a Chocolate bar! And for the potions, I'll have…a hundred Red Potions and…fifty Blue Potions." All together that amounted to…16 350? Was that right? Numbers were never her strength. Still, she counted out sixteen bags of one thousand, three wads of hundreds, and fifty coins, presenting them to Luna. She waited as patiently as she while the old hag counted every last coin.

When she was done, seemingly pleased, and pushed a pile that she made off to the side, to Rollah, who put everything into her inventory. She didn't even bother saying goodbye to Luna, who had already disappeared into the back. Rollah took a bite of her crunchy, red Apple as she walked over to her next stop: the Armor shop. Since she was in the market, she might as well get everything she needed.

Sam, an elderly man who hunched over and coughed a lot, smiled at her as she entered. Well, at least it proved rudeness was not an illness of some kind that came when you got old. "Hi!" she waved. "Um…" Suddenly, Rollah realized she had never gone clothes shopping before. Everything she wore was her sister's hand-me-downs. She was absolutely mesmerized by the colorful clothing that hung on display, also behind a glass case much like the potions and food. "Can I try…" Okay, she had to choose clothes based on level. At Level 10, her best bet would be… "…the Green Winter Hat, with the…Green Avelin and…matching skirt, and the Green Hard Leather Boots?" Sam grabbed a wooden ladder and wheeled it over to his large, tall closet-like stock, pulling out the requested items, and placed them on the counter.

Rollah grabbed the shirt first, slipping it on and was happy to find it was a good fit. Then she pulled the poofy skirt over her legs, tucking it under her shirt to make sure it didn't slip off her bony hips. Finally, she took the hat…and was disappoint to see how small it was. How was she ever going to get that over her head? Still, you'd never know until you tried, right? Carefully, she placed the wool hat over her spiky noggin, pleasantly surprised to see them actually smoothening underneath it. Finally, the boots were last. They were clunky and not good incase she needed a quick getaway, but they offered more protection than her worn-out sandals. Rollah caught her reflection in a nearby mirror. Hm, she looked pretty good, if she did say so herself! "I'll take," she said. Rollah handed him eight bags of one thousand and eight wads of one hundred bills. Sam was a lot nicer; he didn't even count it before waving at her as she left.

Yep, the day was young and everything was just perfect. She had new clothes, potions stocked away, and – What was that? A sharp, ear-piercing, scraping noise, like an axe on a rusty metal board, could be heard somewhere behind the shop; perhaps in one of the storage houses they lent out to people. Curiously, Rollah pressed her back into the side of Armor Shop. Slowly, she inched her way around, careful to stay out of sight.

It was one of the strangest scenes she had ever seen. A boy, presumably a Rogue, was standing outside one of the empty mushroom houses, peeking through the crack in the door. He had a scroll in one hand, the other one placed on one of the handles of the large, steel double doors. Rollah could barely see his face, but based on what she could see, he looked…terrified. He gaze was fixated on what little he could see inside the house. Suddenly, he flinched, taking a few steps back, still looking scarred out of his wits. Inside the house, a voice could be heard. It was low and smooth, yet it was commanding. Rollah could only guess that the voice either knew the Rogue was spying on them or…it knew and was beckoning him inside. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he pulled open the metal door.

Rollah cringed when the scraping noise suddenly got louder. What was that? Was someone being tortured in there? But she couldn't find out. As he went in, the door slammed shut behind him. And that was it. A moment later, the noise stopped. Rollah waited, but the Rogue never came back out. Neither did anyone else emerge from the mysterious storage house (well, the storage house itself wasn't mysterious, but what was happening behind its closed door definitely was).

Rollah knew she should've just gone home. Or maybe even to the training grounds. But, no, instead, she found herself running over to the mushroom, pressing her ear against the door. Someone was yelling…and really loudly, at that. Loud enough that she just make out a few words. Rollah listened in intently. "Special…stolen something, uhg, okay… gave…gave…away? Gave away? Claw…my…my Maple…Maple…" A cold chill ran down her spine. She sincerely hoped she misheard the last word… "Maple…Skanda?" Her eyes slowly widened in shock, along with her mouth which dropped open. Okay, based on what she heard, this was the story: someone stole a "special" Maple Skanda claw then apparently gave it away. And whoever was saying this _definitely_ did not sound happy about it.

Okay, Rollah didn't need to panic. She didn't. It didn't mean they were talking about her. "It can't be me," she whispered, falling back against the Armor Shop walls, safely away from the doors. There must be dozens of people on the island with Maple Skandas…that was given to them by two strangers…who were really anxious to get rid it. "Argh!" she cried. Just when things were going so perfectly…! Rollah buried her face in her hands, just about ready to cry. Why did everything happen to her? Why couldn't things just run smoothly for more than a few minutes without all the –

What is that? Something rolled across the grass toward her; as it got closer, Rollah saw it was an arrow, stopping a few inches from her feet. Picking it up, she looked over at the general direction from which it came. She was genuinely surprised to see another Archer; a girl, with a poofy blue Siren haircut and thin blue eyes, wide-eyed in fear. Both of them said nothing, though Rollah felt she totally had a right to be accusing. Her first instinct told her to be suspicious. A random girl hunched over behind her; yeah, that happens every day!

Rollah was about to ask, but before she could a word out, the girl straighten up, and ran away as fast as her legs could take her. Okay, this was a new insult; running away before she could even say something to offend her. What did she do?

But she didn't have time to worry about that! Behind her, she could hear the distinctive sound of a rusty door creaking as it opened. Panicking, she ducked down with her back against the wall, just enough to stay out of sight, but still able to eavesdrop. Rollah could see a group of people, dressed in Thief attire with two Warriors, walk out, each one looking solemn and scared. Except for one, who was absolutely the most menacing looking person she had ever seen. His orangey-red hair sat atop his head in spikes, though his were obviously intentional, with several falling in front of his face. Behind them, two dragged out a wooden crate, from which banging and crying could be heard. Rollah gasped in shock, then quickly covered her mouth when she realized they may have heard.

"Take them to the Abandoned Ship," the menacing one said, jabbing his thumb west. "We can't stay here any longer. I think we've already been found out."

Rollah gulped. Perhaps her spy skills needed some polishing… She looked back to see the crate disappear, probably into one of their inventories, and head towards the portal. They walked like a unit, the scary-looking red-head in the middle with the two Warriors behind him, gripping their weapons and scanning the faces of the onlookers like guards. The rest of the group, noticeably weaker, finished creating a box around him; two on either side and one out in front; like putting the weak Noobs in front as a first line of defense in case of attack because those with power didn't care what happened to them. They could've all dropped like flies and it wouldn't matter as long as the Master was safe. Rollah watched as they disappeared. Safe to say, she was completely fascinated with finding what that was all about.


	3. Outstanding Citizen

**Chapter 3: Outstanding Citizen**

Rollah sighed as she watched the Orange Mushroom disappear. She had been training here all afternoon. She had hoped it would be enough to put her at ease and make her forget the scene behind the Armor Shop. Rollah sat down on off to the side exhausted. She checked her inventory for what must have been the 100th time, only to see the Maple Skanda sitting there safe and sound. She sighed. What did she expect what happen? That is was disappear all of a sudden? They didn't know she had a claw; and even if they did, they couldn't prove it was theirs…could they?

Rollah pouted. Just when she thought things were going so great, now she has to deal with his creeping thought that she may possess something that belonged to a menacing Hermit, who looked like a building with legs! She wondered what she ever did to deserve this. Couldn't she just live in –

A gush of wind swept through the Training Grounds. It wasn't normal; not like the cool, gentle breeze that came and went once in a while. It was a lot stronger, picking up as time ticked away. Rollah wasn't the only one who noticed, as it seemed everyone on the map had dropped whatever it was that they were doing. Everyone began to huddle close to each other, all asking the same questions with no one possessing enough knowledge to answer. They were all as shocked as Rollah. Then…it stopped.

Everything stopped; everything and everyone. Behind her a Magician was in the middle of casting Magic Claw, but now he simple stood, slightly hunched over, with his right arm extended and his Wizard Staff in hand. Curiously, Rollah walked over. She waved her hand in front of his face and snapped her fingers a couple time, but he stood frozen, and Rollah lightly traced her finger along his arm, up his chest and neck, finally stopping at the tip of his nose, and pressed it down until it was as flat as it could be against his face. She giggled. Oh yes, she could have some fun with this.

Happily, Rollah skipped off in search of other mischief she could get up to while everyone was in this state. But she barely made it up the ladder at the end of the platform…before everything turned dark. Her surroundings were pitched black.

A chilling sensation ran down her spin. Okay…don't panic. She had no idea where she was but that didn't mean she was in danger. All she needed to do was stay calm and think rationally… She groaned. Calmness and rationality had never been a strong trait of hers. Instead, anxiety washed over her like a massive tidal wave, and tears rimmed the bottom of her chocolate brown eyes. "Hello?" she called out. When she got no reply, she began running; no direction in mind or sight. It was futile, she knew. She could have run for an eternity and nothing would've looked any different. But she couldn't stop. She just had to keep going; she –

"Oof!" she cried, as her face collided straight into someone's backside. Well, at least the clothes they were wearing were nice; soft and silky, making for a good cushion. Rollah looked up to see the back of someone's head, turning around slowly. "S-sorry," she mumbled, ducking her head, and moved along. She heaved a sigh of relief to see she was back in Henesys. However, immediately, she sensed something wasn't exactly right. Hm, had the town always been this crowded? Usually, the population in the towns trickled down in the afternoon as people went traveling, but at that moment, Rollah found herself a mere speck in a sea of people.

"May we have your attention, please?"

Rollah turned to see the voice was coming from the big television screen by the portals. The usual ad that ran in a loop was replaced by a group of solemn looking people in identical white uniforms, with the letters GM written on their hats in blues. Then, the entire sea shifted their attention to the television.

"We're very sorry to pull you out of your travels, but we have a very importance announcement to make."

Beside her, a few Magicians giggled gleefully. "I hope it's another 2x EXP Event," one of them said. The others nodded enthusiastically, clearly sharing similar thoughts and hopes. Unfortunately, judging by the GMs dead-serious expressions, Rollah guessed the announcement wouldn't be anything like that. I mean, they hardly interrupt everyone's day just to say they're holding another event. If people wanted in on that, they could make the time to check it out for themselves.

"In the past few days," the woman said, "we have detected a very serious breach of security. At first, usage was limited to a few, but now it seems it has spread across Maple. So many others have been affected that we felt it was time to step in."

A murmur of shock ran through the crowd as everyone began asking around, seeing if anyone knew what they were talking about. Rollah wondered why they even bothered. In a case like this, where the GMs were stepping in, no one was going to admit they knew anything of the sort.

"An illegal scroll has been released via a hack into the System that was discovered a few days ago," the woman explained. "It has been circulating undetected due to its resemblance to an ordinary scroll. And like an ordinary scroll, it gives the items special attributes and increases its market value." She paused, scanning the crowd. Obviously, she wasn't looking just at the crowd in Henesys. If Rollah had to guess, at that moment, she could see into every town that possessed a television set.

"However, the problem comes when the person sells it," she continued. "At first everything's normal. The buyer gets the item and the seller makes a profit. But then, a few days later, buyers complain that the item disappears from their inventory and, we suspect, goes back to the seller. The seller can repeat this process many times over, raking in the profits, while others are being scammed. To one person, this might not seem like such a big deal. But in the long run, average prices are skyrocketing as those sellers can now purchase other things at a higher cost and its ruining the economy." The woman paused again, as the murmuring had rippled across the crowd once more.

"Thus, we have decided to take action," she said, commanding everyone's attention, "and implement a rollback." At that, everyone was dead silent. Of course, no one looked too happy. If the GMs are stepping in to solve the problem, chances are, they've been driven to extreme measures. "We have decided to remove every item that has been affected by the scroll, as well as every mesos gained through the selling of said item. It'll begin immediately and will continue over the next forty-eight hours. Unfortunately, mesos lost by people who have been scammed will not be returned."

A rollback? Removing every item affected by the scroll? The same chill ran down Rollah spine as she though back to earlier that afternoon. The Rogue outside the storage with the scroll; someone mentioning a missing Maple Skanda, how "special" it was; no…no, it was just a coincidence. Rollah nodded. "Yeah, just a coincidence." Still, she opened up her inventory, her finger twitching slightly as she tapped the EQP tab…revealing an empty slot where the expensive claw used to occupy. She sighed. Okay, so it wasn't a sign from fate; well, maybe it was, but it certainly wasn't a gift; more like a cruel prank that wasn't funny unless you were in on it. She really should've seen it coming. But…at least it can't get any worse, right?

Uhg, she should crush hope before it chokes her alive. A moment later, when she bothered to skim through the rest of her inventory, something odd caught her eye. It took a few minutes for her to really process it. Her balance at the bottom…the number…it wasn't right…right? Five million was missing from account; _exactly_ five million. She groaned, face palming until there was a faint, red handprint on her usually porcelain white, but now slightly tanned and really sweaty, face. The stupid mage…had given her mesos…_that he stole_. Yep, she was never going to trust _anyone _ever again.

In the background, the GMs continued to talk (something about missing people), but Rollah was beyond listening. No, she was too busy being mortified by the fact that her two biggest money-makers; the two things that she depended on in case she ever ran out; was gone! But…but that's okay. So…so she doesn't buy a lot of new clothes. A-and…she cuts back on a few luxuries for a while…like food. And she pays her rent a little – Oh, no; her rent. Rollah groaned again, while face palming. Her rent…her stupid rent…for the stupid house she was _stupid_ enough to buy… Forget paying it a little late; how was she going to come with the payment at all? The house cost her 50 000 mesos a night, collected every seven days. Without the five million, she barely had 10 000!

Suddenly depressed, Rollah dragged her half-dead body home. She felt more exhausted than she did after an entire day of training, and she wasn't particularly keen on going home. In fact, she should've avoided the place at all costs, seeing as today is the day her first payment is due. But…where else could she go? She could go back the Training Grounds…but her body protested, probably fearing for its safety when Rollah brain accidently shuts down in the middle of a mob. It was so tired, just from walking, Rollah felt like keeling over.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity (who knew Henesys was so big?), Rollah reached her new house. And sure enough, taped on her door was a little slip of paper, yellowish and slightly brittle. The landlord had already been by, it said, and seeing as she wasn't home, he'd come back first thing tomorrow morning to collect the rent. Rollah sighed, tearing it off the wooden door and crumpled it in her hands. Once she got up to her bedroom, she promptly threw it under her bed. Maybe the landlord will forget to come by; or just skip her house when he sees the notice isn't there. He was a talking mushroom, after all. How well could they're memory be? Rollah yawned. She couldn't worry about that. All she wanted was sleep. She just wanted a moment's…peace…

There was no such luck. The next day, Rollah heard a loud banging at the door. She cracked an eye open to see the sun still resting on the horizon. She opened up her inventory, slightly hoping that yesterday was all a terrible dream. Hm, nope; the five million was still gone. And the banging still hadn't stopped; if anything, they were getting louder. Still groggy, Rollah crawled out of bed, making her way down stairs. Opening the door a crack, she frowned to see the little green mushroom, its cap covered in yellow polka dots, starring up at her.

"I'm here about the rent," he said. "That'll be 350 000 mesos."

"Yeah," Rollah mumbled, rubbing her eyes clean of sleep. "Um…" What should she do? She contemplated slamming the door in his face and yelling, go away, until he, well, went away. But somehow, she doubted it would solve anything. Instead, she turned to pleading; perhaps he'd be sympathetic. "Could um…could I have a few extra days? You know, to come up with the rent? Some stuff came up and…well; a lot of my stuff is missing."

The green mushroom smirked. "So, I see the rollback strikes again," he (or at least, Rollah though it was a "he") said. "You're not the first," he continued, waving a finger at her. "I've met at least ten other people telling me the same thing. Looks like the hack spread faster than anyone anticipated, huh?"

Rollah nodded, not because she agreed – she didn't know about the dumb hack until yesterday – but because she simply didn't know what else to say. "So," she said, "you'll help me, right?"

At that, the arrogant smirk morphed back into a frown. "I'm sorry," he said, though he really didn't sound too sorry, "but extensions are against our policy. You have until the end of the day, when I return, to produce 350 000 mesos or I'm afraid you'll have to leave." With that, he left, shaking his head.

Rollah starred after him, muttering something unintelligent, and slammed the door shut. Great; add eviction to her list of problems. Grabbing her stuff, Rollah headed out; back to the Henesys homelands. It wasn't as crowded as it was the day she arrived, but there was still a considerable amount of people walking up and down the various rows of houses. "Hello?" Rollah opened the door a smidge, to see the landlord sitting in the back with, scarfing down a Sundae. He waved her in. "Hi," she said. "Um…I used to live here."

The landlord nodded. He tried to talk, but his mouth was full of ice cream judging by the white cream that dribbled from his mouth. Uhg, good thing she didn't eat breakfast yet. It would've been a total waste of food, seeing as how it would've all come right back up at the sight of a pudgy man with melted ice cream dripping out of mouth.

Rollah shook her head, gesturing at him that he needn't talk, fearing that he might spray half-eaten Sundae all over her. "Anyways," she continued. "I was wondering about my old house…if it's still available."

The landlord forced down another spoonful of ice cream, before answering, "Sorry, kid. We gots people comin' everyday looking at houses. After ya left, I sold it to somebody else." He shrugged.

"Well, do you have anything else available for…relatively the same price?" she asked, desperate.

He shook his head. "Sorry, everything's booked solid. I gots some people ready to move out soon, but uh… that won't be for another couple days or so."

Rollah nodded a little numb. She could barely manage a polite "Thank you," and "Goodbye," before wobbling toward the door. Her legs gave out as soon as she was outside, and she plunked down on the porch, her head in her hands. _What am I gonna do?_ By the end of the day, she was going to be homeless. She'll be lucky if she can sleep on a bench in the park or something! Uhg, this day could not get worse…

"Do you have anything to report?" Caramel, formally known as Caramel II, asked. She was extremely anxious to get the case over with. Well, she was anxious, but she wanted to do it right. She had been working as a Game Master for a while now, and solved many cases of fraud, hacking, and kidnapping, but never had the case gone completely cold before it even got started! They had no leads as to who took No. 41 and 42.

Quincy shrugged as he scratched his head. Carmel rolled her eyes. He was the latest addition to the team, and still unfamiliar with a lot of things. "Not sure," he said, flipping through a small stack of papers in his hand. "The words been out for a few days now that they're missing, but when we mentioned it on the big screen, reports have been flying in. Most of them have turned out to be untrue."

"Yeah," Caramel said, sarcastically. "This is where all the concerned citizens all jump out for the rewards." Normally, Caramel didn't care, but this case was especially curious to her.

A report came in that No. 41 and 42 were missing, but there were absolutely no leads. The well was dry before they even started draining it. People were beginning to think maybe it was a hoax, but she didn't believe it; she wouldn't believe it until she saw with her own eyes that they were either safe or that they didn't exist.

"But," Quincy continued. "We did have one report from someone who was..._very persistent_ and insisted we check it out." He ushered Caramel along to the interrogation room, where an Archer girl sat looking terrified beyond her wits. Her head whipped around as she starred frantically for an exit or a person or…something; probably anything to give her some peace of mind.

Uhg, Caramel hated the interrogation room. The little square box-like place was completely sealed off with a one-way glass window for observation. Inside, one could see a tiny wooden bench in the middle of the back wall, and an ever-shifting map, transitioning from the sunny fields of Henesys, to the middle of a frigid ice storm in El Nath, to the underwater world of Aqua Road. Everything was illusionary, save for the bench, of course. But it was definitely helpful in cracking open suspects like a Hard Walnut.

They were usually knocked out and carted off in the middle of a task, and locked inside the room for a good thirty minutes or so. When they awaken, all they can think about it escaping with answers. It's a very stressful frame of mind, and when you're in it, all you want is to stop and think. That alone is very difficult under stress, but the changing maps just add to it and distracts from their task. It was supposed to make them feel pressured; to remind them that the world is still spinning around, and that there was still that clock ticking away…or something to that effect.

Caramel sighed. The current occupant didn't look like much; just frightened. "How can you be sure she knows anything?" she asked, slightly annoyed. "You said so yourself; there have been many false alarm ringing." It wasn't that she didn't trust Quincy…she just didn't trust people in general. Facts she trusted; facts didn't change; but people…people changed their tunes based on how it benefits them. Who's to say the person who reported the Archer just had a grudge against her and wanted to see her suffer a little?

But Quincy just shrugged. "Yes, and I also said this person was extremely persistent. She refused to leave and kept sending in reports until we promised to investigate her lead. Her name was…" He flipped through his stack of paper, producing a file on another Player. "…Siren; an Archer girl. She said she saw…" He paused, flipping again. "…Chocorollah," he gestured at the girl in the interrogation room, "with Hudson. You remember him, right?"

Ah, Caramel nodded. How could she forget? As GMs, they have been tracking the Hermit for…well, as long as she could remember. They were always on the hunt for him for some crime; counterfeiting, hacking, illegal raids; but just when they thought they had him, everything disappears without a trace. Some say he's just that good, perhaps even better and he's just doing it to mock them; but there were also rumors that there were spies in the Game Masters working on his behalf in exchange for benefits. Whatever he pays, it was probably better than what they earned.

"I thought it might've been a good idea to bring her in," Quincy said. "So I did. She's all yours." And with that, he strolled out whistling a tuneless song, still flipping through his pile of papers. Caramel began to wonder if that's all he did in terms of office work; handle the paper work, in which case, she truly pitied him, for they, as GMs, got more paper work than anyone.

She sighed. Well, since they did go through the trouble of bringing her in, she might as well see if she knows anything. Quickly, she descended the spiraling metal staircase, down to the large double doors with two beefy guards holding machine guns checking ID. It led to a dimly lit hall way with two more sets of doors, each one more secure than the one before. The next one required ID check and a handprint scan, and the one after that required ID, handprint, plus an eye scan. Finally, the door the interrogation room was made entire of steel, with iron locks that bolted shut and a full body scan and voice recognition. Yeah, you could say they were a little paranoid. They spent so much on security at the actual headquarters, Caramel wondered what the world would be like if her bosses gave nearly as much time and mesos into improving the security outside. Well, then she supposed the GMs would be out of a job.

Finally reaching the door, Caramel waited patiently for the bright red lasers to run up and down her entire body three times. "Voice authorization required."

Caramel sighed. "Caramel II," she called out.

"Accepted," the automated voice replied. "Welcome." It was followed by the unmistakable sound of rusty metal being heaved; bolts turning, and the squeaky noise from the hinges as the door swung open. To…Chocorollah (was that her name?) is would seem the door appeared from nowhere. She looked absolutely petrified as Caramel walked in, right in the middle of a snow storm. "It's okay," she said. "I'm not here to hurt you." Well, at least not physically. She sighed. Sometimes Caramel wondered if she was too soft to interrogate people; she was told fear and anxiety was the key in prying the truth from someone, but…she didn't want to see anyone suffer like that.

The girl stopped, shivering long enough to look her in the eyes, before shrinking back to sit on the bench. A moment later, the snow clear and was replaced by the underwater landscape of Aqua Road. Slowly, Caramel approached the Archer, who was still sitting on the bench, starring at her feet. "I wanna leave," she heard her whimper. "Why am I here? Why me?"

Caramel truly pitied this girl, who sat shriveled up with her face in her hands as she cried. "I'm not here to hurt you," she repeated. "I…" She paused, taking a deep breath. She should've that she all just wanted was to ask a few questions, but Caramel wasn't so sure that, that was going to be enough. For the first time, she felt an intense panging in her mind to grill this girl for all she knew. But should she say that? It was different from her usual approach. In the end, she settled on a half-truth. "I just want answers."

Chocorollah looked up, her eyes puffy and red. Then she sighed, willing the tears to stop. "What answers?" Her works were bitter, but they lacked bite. It seems as though she was already pretty drained from before they brought her in. Caramel silently wondered what had happened to this girl.

"Just…talk me," Caramel replied softly, ignoring her question. Hm, perhaps that was a bad idea, as the girl instantly clamed up, dropping her head with a heavy sigh. It was clear she wasn't going to give anything unless she had reassurance that she would gain something in return. Another reason why she disliked people; in their minds, the scale always had to be even; what they give away must be returned. Caramel sighed. "Fine," she said, pointedly, "don't talk; don't see your friends and family. What we have on you, you can rot away for all anybody cares." It was a harsh thing to say, but…that was kind of the point. Yes, fear and intimidation worked, but baiting them by pointing out the worst possible repercussion that could occur; well, Caramel had found it worked better than other technique. All they want at this point is freedom and to return to normality.

Caramel watched as the girl's head slowly rose. There was a new sense of determination in her eyes when she looked up. "What do you wanna know?"

Rollah sighed. Yeah, she had cracked like a Walnut under the pressure form that…GM lady, but she couldn't help it! You couldn't say she was weak; you just…couldn't; because you didn't know! Everything about that place was freaky. It was so small, yet…it seemed endless because it was so empty. And the maps…uhg, she could barely form a coherent thought in her head! The only thing could think about was how everything kept changing. It was a reminder that the world wasn't going to stop spinning for her. But…but all she wanted at that point was for everything to stop; just…stop, and let her think!

When that woman came in, and started mothering her, Rollah wanted to shout at her to just cut the crap and tell her why she was here. But what she would've said, had she said anything at all, would probably be, "Remind me how to breathe…"

In the end, she completely cracked, and the agreed to the lady's bargain. If Rollah could figure out where Hudson was, they'd return everything that was confiscated from her during the rollback. Needless to say, she jumped on that pretty quickly. Yeah, it was silly to think that having mesos could fix everything but…well; sometimes that childish hope is all you really need to get through the day.

Rollah clutched her War Bow, which was no longer shiny and new-looking, just a little bit tighter as she looked out at the sea. In the back, she could still hear the mindless chatter of the people in Lith Harbor, but they were too far to hear her, as she stood by the shore of the sandy beach, the waves crashing and receding just inches away from her clunky boots. Her destination derived from the conversation she overheard earlier that afternoon.

"_Take them to the abandoned ship. We can't stay here any longer. I think we've already been found out."_

At first, she had no idea what they talking about. There weren't any ships that were abandoned on Victoria Island…except for the ones at Lith Harbor. Now far away from the busy town filled with Beginners, Rollah stood along the shore, where dozens of old ships had met their end by the jagged rocks, and washed up. It was hard to believe waters normally so calm could cause this much destruction. But then again, thing's can surprise you when you least expect it. Rollah chuckled, thinking back to her mother, who fist told her the "phrase of wisdom." She said it was reason she left Rollah's father.

"_Everyone has a second face that's never to be seen, but shows up anyways. As a person, you ought to be careful. Take a good, hard, long look at someone and decide if they're really worth it. Sometimes they can surprise you by rising above being inherently two-faced, but sometimes…well, sometimes you realize that the second one is really who they are, and that they're never going to change."_

Her mother also cited it as the reason she never remarried or…even got in another relationship. She said marrying her father was like sticking her finger in a mousetrap; it hurt, and she was smart enough not to do it again. Anyways, why was she thinking about this? Oh, yeah, looking at the waters makes her homesick. Rollah sighed; back to problem at hand.

The abandoned ship was a good lead, but to the large beach of Lith Harbor was as far as it had gotten her. Taking a deep breath, Rollah approached the remains of what she could only imagine was a gigantic vessel. Imagine; because half of it was bury in the sands underwater. Uhg, she really didn't wanna go in. She hated dark spaces, but…what other choice did she have? She was even beginning to wonder why even left GM headquarters. At least in there, she had a place to sleep and food delivered. If she came up dry, well, what did she have left to return to? Her homesickness reminded her very clearly that by the end of the day, she would _have_ no home.

Thus, Rollah slowly approached the wreckage. Repulsed by the smell of mould, not to mention spooked by the total darkness, Rollah leaned back, extending her arm to feel around. Her hand landed on what she could only assume to be the wall, and she used it as support as she walked in. The grounds were still sandy. This time though they were wet and clung to her boots. Her foot seemed to sink further and further into the ground with every step, like she was in quick sand. She gasped. What if was quick sand? What if she was slowly disappearing and no one knew? Uhg, the GM lady was right; she could gonna rot away and no one would –

Huh? Rollah stopped freaking out long enough to realize the last step she took created echoed. Looking down, she saw that the ground was no longer wet sand but…metal? She stomped her feet a few times to be sure. Yep, it was definitely metallic. Looking ahead, she noticed the ground begin to steep downward…until it completely disappeared down a tunnel. Rollah gulped; like actually gulped. People did it when they were nervous, but Rollah almost never did…until she saw her task. Very slowly, she walked toward the tunnel, leaning over it slightly. It was a _long_ way down… So long, in fact, that she couldn't even see the bottom. Curiously, she picked up a stone off the ground and gently slid it down. She counted the seconds before she heard it land on at the bottom. 154 seconds; how many minutes was that?

Well, it didn't matter…because she wasn't going down there. She couldn't! Still… Rollah felt a light breeze sweep in, reminding her, like the ever changing maps, that the island wasn't going anywhere, and that time was still ticking away for her. She had two options: go back and return to her life worrying about debts that she was soon going to acquire…or just suck it up, do it, and try and get her life back to normal! Well, the ending was a foregone conclusion, as Rollah struggled to sit down comfortably, inching along floor until gravity took over.

Slowly and slowly…until she found she no longer needed to move. A cool breeze splashed her in the face as she picked up speed, going further and further down. Rollah was tempted to look back, but she knew that would only add anxiety to her already rattled nerves. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Rollah landed with a thud on the floor. Well, that was pleasant.

She dusted herself off as she stood. A moment later, she finally got to assess her surroundings. Tunnels…lots of them, all going in different direction; they were constructed of metal; maybe steel; and Rollah could just barely see her reflection. Rust ate away at the walls and flooring, prompting Rollah to guess that no one came down there often and scare herself even more. Cautiously, she chose a route at random and walked along. Above her, the dangling lights flickered, making the place feel even more ominous.

After a while, she began to question if she walking in circle. The scenery never changed; all Rollah could see in front and behind her was an endless tunnel of steel. She could've been wandering down there for hours for all she knew! _No, this isn't working_, she decided, and turned back. Tears began forming in her eyes as she felt like she was walking on a hamster wheel; she could've run as fast as her legs would take her, but she would always remain in the same spot. What if she never escaped? What if she was down here forever? The waterworks began running down her face freely, as she picked up speed, now practically running, scared; very, very scared. What will happen to her? What will –

Oh, no. Rollah felt her entire body go numb when she saw what lied ahead. The tunnel had come to a dead end; well, sort of. Instead, it branched off into two opposite directions. Rollah remembered turning a few corners as she walked, and she must've come from one of the directions, but…which one? East or west? Both ways looked identical; just more tunnels. Wiping her tears, Rollah racked her brain for an answer, thinking so hard she was sure smoke of coming out of her ears, but…nothing. She had no idea. Rollah sighed. Well, she supposed things were left up to luck. Pulling out a pink Orihalcon ore, she threw it against the wall; whichever direction it lands towards, that's where she goes. It made a slight dent, before sort of dropping off and rolled along…toward the left. Okay, left it is! Rollah decided to leave the ore where it was as a marker; to make sure she wasn't actually walking in circles.

Everything was so quiet; so still. All that she could hear was her footsteps and the echoes…at least, she hoped those were echoes. But…soon it dawned on her that they perhaps that sound wasn't her; they were out of sync, inconsistent, and…getting louder. _Oh, you've gotta be kidding me_, she groaned. She wasn't alone; there was someone else approaching, and… Rollah looked around frantically for a place to hide, but saw none. It was clean and empty. So, Rollah resorted to blunt self defense, and held her War Bow in position, an arrow strung and ready. The footsteps quickened in pace, getting louder and louder. In the distance, Rollah could see another corner, and a shadow stretched along it as the figure approached. She willed herself to calm down; she had to be ready in case it was one of the Rogues on patrol or something. Okay, one, two…

"There you are!"

Huh? In the distance, a girl with a poufy, blue Siren haircut came running over with a sigh of relief. Wait a minute… Slowly, Rollah lowered her weapon, realizing she'd seen that distinctive face before.

"I was hoping I'd find you! You started runnin' and I couldn't keep up an'…anyways, so glad I found you!" The girl smiled, but it wasn't cheery; well, it was it, but it was too cheery, like it was all a mask. Okay, was she missing something? Or did the girl honestly not see what was wrong with the current picture?

"Right…" Rollah said, nodding. She knew she was starring, and she knew it creeping out the other girl, but she couldn't help it! Something was just not right with this image! "…And you are?" As condescending, and possibly rude, as that question could've come off, Rollah couldn't care. It was her fault for springing up the situation. Instead of relief washing over her, Rollah would've rather it been a one of the menacing Hermit (Hudson, was that he name?) thugs who turned the corner. It would've been easier on the logic.

"Oh," she said, looking genuinely surprised. "I'm Siren!" She stuck out her hand, still smiling. She was oddly reminiscent of the scene with Noxious in the Training Ground, except…well, the situation was reversed. Hm, did the Mage feel as weird as she did? She shook Siren's hand anyways, shaking it…until they both seemed to have realized how awkward the situation was, and Rollah let her hand drop.

"So…" What should she say? She should she ask if Siren had a map or something to get out? Yeah, that seemed like a normal response. "Do you know how to get out of here?"

The faux-cheery demeanor dropped like a ton of bricks, as Siren suddenly looked conflicted. She couldn't have been surprised that Rollah would ask that, right? Still, she took a couple deep breaths before answering. "Yes," she said, slowly. "But we can't leave. Not yet."

"What?" Rollah asked, utterly dumfounded. Did she wanna be stuck down there forever? She couldn't believe this Siren-person! Well, whatever. "Fine then, just show me a way out." Siren could stay lost down there forever, but Rollah had other plans for her line. She stretched out her hand, waiting for her to hand over the map.

"No!" she cried, suddenly defensive. What was with her? She changed expressions faster than…well, she never actually met anyone who had more mood swings than Siren. "It's mine!"

"I don't wanna keep it!" Rollah said, getting irritated. "I just wanna see it! I'm leaving!"

"You can't leave!" she said, looking up at her, eyes widening. "I mean…" she sighed. "Don't you want your things back? What are you gonna do about your meso problem after you get out?"

Rollah sighed. Well, she had a point. If she went back to the GMs empty-handed they wouldn't just give her, her stuff back and say, "Well, we're back to square one, but the important thing is she tried." They weren't that stupid! And, plus she had a map, so it wouldn't be like – Hey! "How did you about my meso problem?"

Siren looked visibly frightened. It seems Rollah had talked her into a corner. "I…I…" Finally, Siren sighed, seeing no point in dragging out the façade any longer. When she looked back at Rollah, her eye held a glimmer of annoyance themselves. See? Mood swings.

"Were you the one who turned me in?" Rollah asked. She should've been angry, but for some reason, Rollah didn't think Siren did it because she was bored or held a grudge. There must've been a reason.

Siren pursed her lips together and nodded sheepishly. "Pretty much," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I…" She paused taking a deep breath. She seemed a lot more at ease than before. "That day," she explained, probably referring to the scene behind the Armor shop, "I saw you, and I knew you heard everything. And – " She took a sharp breath as they both heard the voices in the back. Rollah's head whipped around, seeing a shadow flickering on the wall at the other end. "Come on," Siren said, gesturing for Rollah to follow her. "We can't stay here." She started running. She was surprisingly fast and Rollah struggled slightly to keep up.

The blue-haired Archer stopped at a small ventilation duct on the wall close to the floor, bending down and unscrewing it open. There was just enough space for the two of them to crawl side by side. Still, Siren suggested Rollah go first, and she would follow, placing the screen back into position.

"Anyways," she whispered. "Where was I?" Siren was still a little behind her, as they both crawled along the dusty, stuffy, air vent. "Oh, yeah, the Armor shop. I knew you heard everything. So did I and I guess you could say I was curious."

"Curious?" Rollah whispered back.

"Yeah, I wanted to know who the scary-looking big meat head was," she replied. Rollah chuckled at her description of Hudson, though it was surprisingly accurate. "When the rollback came," she huffed, "and they said all that stuff about No. 41 and 42, I just knew they were connected. You could call it a fifth sense, I guess."

No. 41 and 42? Oh, yeah, the two guys that gave her the Maple Skanda. She couldn't imagine anyone else with such…unique yet bland names (who numbers their kids then decides to actually call them that?). They were missing? Hm, well Rollah didn't really pay attention to the GMs after she found the claw and the five million missing.

"Anyways, I wanted to find them, but… Well, I'm not stupid. I knew if those Thieves caught me I would be as good as dead," she continued.

"So you wanted me to come?" Rollah said, incredulous. "Why didn't you just ask me that day?" Instead of putting both of them through all that hassle and trouble.

"I didn't know if you'd say yes!" Siren defended herself. "And I couldn't go in alone, so…I gave you away to the GMs. They'd make you a deal or you'd agree to help them on your own, and you would come here with me."

Rollah hated to admit it, but the girl was starting to make some sense. As crazy as her plan was, it worked. Though, there was still one question that nagged at her mind. "Why?"

Siren sighed. "I guess you could say…well, life was getting boring for me. I just wanted a good thrill." She giggled, seeming pretty proud of herself and her dangerous sense of adventure. "I mean, ever since I left home, things have been pretty quiet. It was just me and it was so…normal." She shuddered. "I hate that."

Rollah smirked. "And you couldn't think of anything else to pass the time?" she asked, sarcastically. Rollah really couldn't relate to Siren. She would give her left arm to live peacefully for the rest of her life; to not have to deal with things like being evicted or being killed by possibly murderess Thieves if she was found. Yet, Siren purposely sought out adventures like that. Was she human? Or was Rollah the weird one for wanting solitude and comfort?

"Nope," Siren replied, cheerfully. And this time it felt real.

Rollah had so many other things she wanted to ask, but they didn't have the time. Up ahead, she could see a dull light at the end of the vent. She felt Siren tug at the back of her skirt, warning her to stay quiet and hidden in the shadows. Rollah nodded, staying close to the wall. The angle was just enough to give a view of Hudson, who sat on a throne-like chair. The other Rogues, plus the two Warriors surrounded him. In front, two guys knelt before him, both looking like they've been driven mad with fear and anxiety. Rollah gulped again. Was this the fate of those who dared to cross the Hermit? Silently, Siren crawled up, leaning in Rollah's direction close enough that she could smell the fruity shampoo the blue-haired Archer used.

"Whoa," she whispered. "They don't look so good."

Rollah rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I've noticed." For a moment, both of them just stayed there unmoving. Occasionally, Hudson would yell and have the boys quivering in fear. Rollah felt sickened by the Hermit expression. You'd think he feels remorseful for what he's doing but he wasn't; nor was he really happy with scaring two kids half to death either. But he was…satisfied. The stiff, half-smile that sat upon his lips did not show glee; but it showed that he was content; satisfied that he had power. "What's the plan?" she asked.

Siren looked over at Rollah, confused. Oh no…

"You mean you don't have a plan?" she whispered harshly. Great, she was stuck in an air vent, with a screen being the only thing separating her from a menacing Hermit who drew satisfaction from scaring and, Rollah guessed killing others if necessary.

"I was hoping you'd have an idea!" she said, defensively. "You…you looked smart. I figured you would know what to do when the time came to spring into action."

"Well, I don't!" Rollah spat back. She sighed. Uhg, she knew this was a mistake. She contemplated going back…but she knew Siren wouldn't have it. And…well, Rollah wasn't heartless enough to just leave her with those Thieves. "I don't know," she said, softly.

Siren pouted. "Well, this is a bust," she huffed, letting out a breath of air. There was a small pause as she shifted to the other side of the vent. Good thing too, because Rollah was starting to not be able to feel her legs. "Should we ambush them?" she suggested.

Rollah rolled her eyes. "Sure," she said, sarcastically, "if you want your family to see how your gravestone looks."

"It was just an idea," she replied, holding her hands out in a sign of defense. She sighed. Well, clearly, Siren also saw what little they could do in with the situation.

Rollah was just about to suggest turning back, when a very loud clunk was heard, and the vent felt like it dropped a little. "What was that?" Rollah whispered. She looked to see Siren shrug. Suddenly, a cold wind swept through the vent and the enclosed space suddenly smelled…fruity? Siren had her head rested against the wall, her blue locks, streaked in various shades of blue, blowing softly against her face toward the room. Rollah could smell her shampoo or hairspray or…whatever she used, clearly. Yes, it was that strong. A chill ran down her spine, as her eyes widened. Siren picked up on her sudden nervousness as well.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

Rollah shook her head. "It's probably nothing," she replied. Yeah, she was just getting worked for nothing. It was just because they were so close; that's why… But they… Rollah looked back into the small, candlelit room. They couldn't…right?

Warren looked over at his right, where Raina stood with a ramrod posture. But suddenly, she lifted her head, sniffing the air, her expression sour.

"Do you smell that?" she whispered.

"Smell what?" Warren too began sniffing around. At first, he dismissed it as nothing; probably the anxiety had gotten to her, but…a fruity aroma filled his nose. "What is that?" he said.

Raina shook her head. "I don't know," she said, slowly, "but…I think it's coming from the air ducts."

Warren looked over to see a small vent on the wall near the floor. How did he miss that? Well, anyways, it was completely dark; though…Well, Warren couldn't be certain but he though he saw a hand peeking through under the screen. "Do you think maybe –?"

"Warren!" Hudson snapped. Crap… Both he and Raina stiffened automatically, and Warren turn his head slowly to look the menacing leader in the eyes. "Something you would like to share with us?"

The Rogue looked back at Raina, who managed to glance at him fearfully. He wasn't sure if she wanted him to say something or just ignore it. He sighed. "It's nothing," he admitted. "I just thought…I thought the air smelled funny, that's all." Across from him, Eero sneered in amusement. Hm, maybe he should've just brushed it off.

But Hudson was intrigued. Warren remembered how fearful he was of the GMs; he was always paranoid when it came to them. He drew himself to full height, towering over everyone as he sniffed the air. A moment later, he wrinkled his nose. "What is that?" he asked (more like growled).

"I think it's coming from the air vent," Naiser said, sniffing around as well. Soon everybody was doing it, and they all looked distressed and confused by the aroma. Now really angry from fear, Hudson stomped over to the ventilation duct. Warren noticed with amusement that the hand that might (or might not) have been there, disappear into the darkness and the soft bumps and knocks as whoever was there shifted about, probably trying to avoid Hudson. Finally, annoyed that he couldn't see anything, Hudson kicked in the screen with his iron boot. Warren heard two loud but distinct shrieks emitted from the vent before a girl tumbled out followed by the other.

Okay, ouch! Rollah hissed as she rubbed the red spot on her arm where Hudson's boot had collided. It wasn't until the dark shadows loomed over her did she realize that seven people were starring down at her. Most of them looked pretty angry, save for the girl, who actually looked frightened for Rollah's sake, and the other guy, from the Armor shop who…well, he looked like he really wanted to kick himself at that point.

Beside her, Siren stood up, dusting herself off. She looked like she really wanted to be confident, but even she had trouble with the mask of bravery in front of those goons. Instead, she motioned for Rollah to stand, which she did still holding the sore spot on her arm. Together, they looked them in the eyes, but a moment later, they began to shrink away, until their backs were pressed against each other. "Uh, okay," Siren whispered. "Maybe this was…too big of an adventure."

Rollah nodded. But what were they gonna do? They were trapped…like Ratz in the Eso Tower. For a moment, everything was still; just like that day in the Training Grounds, and Rollah silently prayed to Zakum that the same thing was going to happen. But of course, it didn't, for the first time in her life; it seemed all Hell had broken loose.

In an instant, Siren whipped out her War Bow and fired several arrows at the gang of thugs. It did little damage, other than annoy them, but a few were stuck. All of them began tumbling about in the small room, tossing Krumbis and Ilbis into the mess. Rollah would've laughed when the stars actually hit one of their own team members, but she wasn't even given the chance. Siren did most of blocking, while Rollah surveyed the room carefully but quickly. In the back corner, in between all the Rogues who tumbled or ran past, Rollah could see No. 41 and 42 cowering, covering their heads with their hands.

"Go!" She heard Siren shout. She fired another arrow. Rollah nodded, ducked to avoid the throwing stars and began to crawl over.

In the distance, Warren saw the spiky-haired girl crawling over to No. 41 and 42. He knew if she got them, then everything would be over. He should've stopped her but… He sighed, backing away. His hands balled into fists, so tightly that he was afraid the Crystal Ilbi in hand might've melted or something. He brought the throwing star up to his face and examined it. When he saw his reflection, he promptly looked away. He didn't wanna see himself like this. The Crystal Ilbis had been a gift from Hudson, but he's never used them. The Krumbis he bought himself worked fine. He always said it was because they were too special to use but… He chuckled quietly. Maybe he thought if he used them, it would like admitting he was one of them. Then he groaned.

What was with him? Why was everything he wanted so conflicting? He wanted to be accepted by Hudson, but at the same time, he felt ashamed and embarrassed to be a part of his guild. He was so happy when Hudson gave the Crystal Ilbis, but he refused to use them because he felt like it was admitting this is who he was. But…it was true. He sighed, standing up, the throwing star still in his hand. "That's right," he whispered. "This is who I am: a Thief, a liar…and a murderer." He lifted his hand, the throwing star tightly in his grasp. He aimed at the Archer who was close to No. 41 and 42, poised and ready to throw…but… He felt arm go stiff. He chuckled quietly at how pathetic he was. He couldn't do it. His conscience wouldn't let him. But he had to. The smile was wiped clean off his face as he willed his arm to move. He had to go through it. And he did.

He watched in amazement as the crystal went flying across the room, but…his aim was off. Instead of cropping off her head at the neck like he intended, it flew a little higher and only managed to take a little off one of her spikes, landing pinned to the wall. Or maybe it was just because they were supposed to be used until he was Level 50. The girl glanced over in his direction, meeting his eyes with hers wide in fear. At first she was hesitating, but now he saw she was confident. There was no turning back as she stood grabbing No. 41 and 42 by the wrists and ran across the room. He didn't bother stopping her because he wouldn't be able to hit her. But he had to laugh at her gluttony; even in her fear, she couldn't pass up something so rare, and she plucked the Crystal Ilbi off the wall and placed safely into her inventory before running off.

"Warren!" It was Hudson. He had two arrows stuck in his leg as he staggered along, limping. "Raina! Go!" he shouted. "Don't let them escape!"

Warren felt Raina whoosh past him, casting him a look that said to follow. He didn't want to but…did he really have a choice? He was contemplative for a moment, before his logical side overruled his conscience and he ran after Raina.

"No!" he heard the blue-haired shout. Behind him, he could just make out a second set of footsteps behind him running with furious speed.

He and Raina continued along the tunnel, until they came to a fork in the road. Warren had managed to steal a map from Phil the tour guide and knew which direction it the Archer probably took, but… He didn't wanna find them if Raina was here. She was very nice and kind but Hudson and her loyalty to him came first. She would never let them leave. So he pointed her in the wrong direction. "You go that way," he said. "This tunnel circles around to the other end." He pointed at what was supposedly on the other side of the wall. "We can meet in the middle and cut them off!" Luckily, Raina nodded and ran off without a word.

Warren sighed, then began running in the opposite direction.

"Come on! Come on!" Rollah shouted at No. 41 and 42. She knew they were probably hungry and exhausted, what with fearing for their lives and everything, but they really had to get going. A throwing star nearly missed her head. Rollah rolled her eyes at her own stupidity for going back and getting it, but she wasn't about to something like that slip past her.

Before the Hermit caught them, Siren had showed her the map of the tunnels and instructed to memorize it as fast as possible. Rollah managed to remember a few markers but there were so many turns and twists…uhg, okay, she was completely lost. Looking down at the twins in her grasp, she knew she couldn't go back and let them be killed. She had to keep going. "Come on," she huffed as she dragged them along.

But suddenly, she heard something in the distance, getting louder. They…they were footsteps. Oh, no… Hudson must've sent some of his goons after her. She didn't have the strength to keep going, even as the two pulled her along by the wrists. The show stretched around the corner and Rollah held her breath, waiting for the inevitable.

It was…that guy? Rollah realized she recognized him. It was the same guy behind the potions shop and the one who threw the Crystal Ilbi at her. He stopped a few feet short from her. A few seconds later, Siren came running up, her eyes widening at the sight of him. "Oh, no, we're done for aren't we?" she huffed and panted, breathless from the running.

He merely looked at them calmly before saying the last thing Rollah though would come from his mouth. "Go to the end of the tunnel," he instructed. "Then turn left. Ignore all the other halls and keep going until the very end, then turn left again. There'll be a set of stairs going up into an oil pipe that leads directly to Kerning. It's safer than going back Lith Harbor. They won't try and attack you with all those people."

Siren looked thoughtful for a moment, before deciding he was right. "Let's go," she hissed at Rollah. But the spiky-haired Archer wouldn't budge.

"Why?" she whispered. But he wasn't going to answering. Not far off, another set of footsteps were running closer and he dashed off without a word. Rollah felt Siren tugging at her arm. But she couldn't leave. Everything had been so weird; nothing made sense. "Why?" she continued to shout.

"Who cares?" Siren answered instead. In the end Rollah, followed after them. Per his instructions, Rollah, Siren, and the twins found themselves in an abandoned oil pipe. She'll never forget the faces she saw when they emerged. Everyone recognized No. 41 and 42, and Siren instructed a bystander to contact the GMs. They arrived a few minutes later, and the twins gladly confessed to their kidnappers. All of it happened in a blur that zoomed past her. Rollah couldn't quiet digest the situation just yet, especially…well, especially what happened with the Rogue.

The GM lady sent a few of them into the tunnel and they returned a several minutes later with the entire gang in tow. The last to come out was the young Thief. Rollah wasn't sure if he looked happy or sad…perhaps he was just conflicted. After all, what he did was the right thing, but it was the expense of himself and his "friends."

The GM lady walked over, a small wooden box in her hands. "A deal is a deal," she said, handing it over to Rollah. She merely starred at it for a moment, unsure. Behind her, Rollah saw the gang before carted off one by one, and Rollah realized something.

She shook her head, pushing the box back into the GM woman's hands. "I don't want it back," she said softly. "Just…just do me one favor."

The lady sighed, and then nodded. "Okay," she said, "what is it?"

"Go easy on the youngest one," Rollah said. Beside her, Siren looked over in shock. "He was the one who helped us. If he weren't for him, we probably would've been caught back at the beach, or still trapped down there." Being in debated was the worst feeling ever; money-wise, it was bad enough, but when someone does something like trade their freedom for yours, well…

The woman smiled. "I can't promise anything," she said. "But…I will make sure that what you just told me is acknowledged. It'll help his case and they might reduce his sentence." Rollah nodded, accepting that that was as far as things would go.

Rollah sighed, turning her attention back to Siren, who was gaping in shock. "That was your stuff!" she shouted. "How could you turn that down?"

Rollah laughed. "Hey, he gave up something for us, as did I for him. Now I figure, we're even." She shrugged. "Besides, I don't need all that; it'll bring back bad memories." Sure, she was still homeless, but the little adventure had changed her mentality for the better. Having a good life doesn't mean it had to be perfect or exciting, just…enjoyable. What good would it do to mope all the time about how things never worked out perfectly?

Siren laughed. "Yeah, I guess you right," she said.

"For thy efforts," or at least, that's how Dalair speaks, he gave them two honorary Outstanding Citizen medals. After he left, Rollah immediately sees Siren talking to some kid flashing her medal at him. She chuckled, guessing that she wanted to show off.

Well, Rollah wouldn't call herself an Outstanding Citizen just yet, but…it seemed that she was at least on the right path.


	4. Burnt Land of Memories

**Burnt Land of Memories**

How long had she been there? She didn't even know, but it could've been in the vicinity of several hours. It didn't feel like it, though. No, to her it felt like she just got off the subway. Everything felt new and shiny; like she was discovering the Lobby of the Kerning Square for the very first time. Had the chandelier always sparkled under the fluorescent lights like that? Was the music always so terrible? Everything was coming back into focus…and nothing felt familiar. Chaunti sighed; her hypnotherapy of sorts was starting to wear off. She didn't even realize had been walking until she stopped in front of a display and her calves felt like they were burning.

Behind the thin sheet of glass, three mannequins sat: a man in a Fedora hat and matching suit, a woman in a (really cute) blue dress, and a kid in a bunny suit. They were seated around a table with the kid in between the adults; the woman's beady, lifeless eyes were staring at the man, and he back at her. The kid placed in the middle was facing Chaunti, its head tilted slightly to the right. He (or was it a she?) had a teacup in his hand; the rest of the set was dispersed around the table. A matching pot was in the middle, next to a plate of scones and cookies.

Chaunti wasn't even sure what they were trying to sell; the tea set, the clothes, maybe even the plastic pastries; but she knew she would've bought the entire display if someone told her it could come to life and play out this perfect little fantasy. She sighed; feeling defeated, and took a seat on a bench across from the store. Ever since she was a little girl, she had imagined the man she was going to marry; how he was so strong and handsome, smart yet tough, and most importantly, completely and utterly devoted to her. That was her aim, her goal; how she was going mould her life. She had excelled at everything she was taught, having mastered the Magician's basic attacks within a week. There was no reason she couldn't…_force_ her life to play that way. That is, until she met what she could describe now as the most difficult man she had ever met.

They were only children at the time. They had tea parties, waved sticks around in the back yard pretending to fight monsters, played house and called each other 'mom' and 'dad' before they even knew what it meant to be parents. It was all in good fun, though, nothing serious. But even then, she had gone to her mother after one of their play dates and declared with the utmost confidence, "I'm going to marry him someday."

Her wish came true a few years later, when her future father-in-law arrived on her door step with his family in tow. Once everyone was seated comfortably in the living room, he pushed his son forward and told him to speak. The boy stammered so badly that Chaunti could hardly understand a word he was saying, and in the end, he pulled a small, velvet box out of his pocket. His father whispered something, and next thing everyone knew, the boy was down on one knee, opening the box to reveal a pink Diamond ring, carved into the shape of a rose. Chaunti didn't even have time to blink before her mother stood up, tears in her eyes, and declared that they accepted. But there was no 'they'; just 'her' and 'them'.

After that, the childhood fantasy began to melt away, revealing the awful truth that was lying beneath it the whole time. Her life seemed to spiral out of control right before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her fiancée started disappearing; gone for hours on end. Sometimes he wouldn't even come home until sunrise. One time he came home with a black eye and a number five carved into the inside of his left arm, and after that, Chaunti started putting the pieces together and figured out where he was headed every night. The beatings got worse and worse, to the point that his parents confronted her about whether or not she knew what he getting himself into. In her interest, she lied and said she didn't know. She even squeezed out some tears when she was shown the bruises and cut marks. And then one day, they just stopped. He started coming back earlier and earlier, walking normally; no bruises, no blood. He got better. Their families were relieved; Chaunti was not.

She wasn't stupid; she knew he was headed into a bad part of Kerning City, provoking the thugs there and looking for a fight that he knew he was going to lose. It was his way of relieving the pressure; he relished in the pain and the danger of it all. He was lucky he was still breathing, yet he continued to push it. But Chaunti didn't stop him; even if she tried, he wouldn't have listened. But she was hoping that he would return to her on his own. In a way she was glad he was getting the life kicked out of him. Maybe one really bad blow would knock some sense into his thick skull, make him see that the thrill of rebellion wasn't worth risking his life; that everyone was better off just playing their roles.

But when he got better, it only meant one thing: he had found friends. All those times of him being beat up; he must have attracted the eye of some thug leader. He was one of them now. He had found a way to feed his addiction and be able to mask it perfectly. Chaunti should've been happy; he was willing to play the part of the perfect husband and father, just so long as he got his fix of danger and sense of belonging. It was what she wanted: a perfect illusion to satisfy their families, not to mention she had finally gotten her childhood fantasy of the perfect husband. But she wasn't happy. Uhg, she was acting like a _child_…and she knew it.

One day, she just woke up and thought, "Fantasies aren't good enough anymore." She sees the error of her ways; sees that a fake perfection is not the equivalent to a hard, but realistic happiness. And all of a sudden, the world was completely upside down…or at least, she tried to convince herself that it was "all of a sudden," and that she didn't spend all her life looking at a world that's totally backwards-upside-down and tell herself that it wasn't. But she didn't focus on that for long; no, that wasn't her problem. Her problem was figuring out how to get out of a suffocating soon-to-be-marriage.

It seemed simple at first; tell her mother that she didn't wanna marry him. She had made arrangements to meet her at their old place in Ellinia. That day, when she arrived, her mother had been sitting on their couch in the exact same position as she was the last time she was there; the day her fiancée proposed and she agreed without even asking her daughter. There were tears in her eyes. She had heard the good news: he was back to normal, no longer lashing out or getting into fights and hurting himself. She pulled Chaunti into a hug; it felt comforting and…motherly. That was probably the most motherly thing that woman had ever done in her life. She whispered words of congratulations in between choking back sobs, and muttering, "Oh, my makeup…" Her father would've been so happy, the woman had said at the end. And Chaunti had another realization: she couldn't do it. She couldn't tell her mother. She couldn't tell the woman that she wasn't the little girl who dreamed of a handsome prince and a perfect family; that she made a mistake. Her pride wouldn't allow it; it wouldn't allow her to admit she was wrong.

Of course, her other option would've been to go to her fiancée and get his parents to call it off, but his relationship with them was still on icy rocks after his phase of rebellion. Not to mention, they still held a grudge against Chaunti, believing her to be the perfect trophy wife, and bitter that she couldn't protect and control their son. There was no way in Zakum's Altar that they were going to agree to anything the young couple asked. Beside, Chaunti already knew how her soon-to-be-mother-in-law would react: there'd be a lot of tears, for sure, and probably screaming about Chaunti ruined her son's life by making him throw away all those years and investing in a relationship that wasn't going to happen because the sponging housewife had a sudden change of heart. If her pride wouldn't allow her to admit to her mother that she wasn't happy, it certainly wasn't going to stand for that kind of insult…and not even _Chaunti_ could be sure how she'd react.

"Chaunti?" The voice interrupted her thoughts. At her right, she saw a window. A man's face appeared a few seconds later. It was cold, emotionless; that was good. It was going to make things a bit easier today.

A handful of dust sailed up her airways when Chaunti drew a breath. With temperatures high enough that one could crack an egg on the ground and watch it simmer it was already hard enough to breathe as it is. The dirt that traveled in the air merely aggravated her already dry and itchy nostrils. She really hated this place.

They were in an open area of Perion; lots of people below them, training. The man took a quick glance at Chaunti, and seeing her stoic face and calmly brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, he gestured for her to follow him down the winding trail. At the sight of their approach, players stopped their activities, clearing a path for them, and couldn't help but whisper and trade glances as the blond passed by, rubbing on her already raw nerves. Oh, what she would give to be able to hand those players a piece of her mind… But the family already had one troublemaker; if they were both immature and clearly incompetent, it would probably drive both their parents over the edge. So she did what she knew she had to do; bear it and move on. Her fists were clenched along with her arms wound tightly against her torso. She drew another breath; there was only more dust. All eyes followed her until she and her entourage that was forcibly placed with her arrived before a portal, and disappeared into it.

When Chaunti opened her eyes, hundred, maybe thousands, of doors, row after row after row, stacked floating one above the other, all stood before her. She was trembling slightly; she let out an irritated sigh. Why was so nervous? She knew this was coming. And besides, if anyone should be embarrassed, it wasn't her. He was the one in suspension limbo; he was the one who had his face broadcasted all over the world; and most importantly, he was the one who was going to have to explain the bad news to his parents.

"This way," he said. When Chaunti finally took a moment to look at him, she noticed his shiny, black name tag read "Damani" in white, bold letters, with the title, "Head Excursion Supervisor" in small print below it.

She followed Damani through another portal, and another one, and another one… She was at least a hundred feet above the ground by the time her supervisor exited the portal and made his way across. He stopped at a random door; no numbers or anything to distinguish it from all the other doors that were in this dump. He pulled out a set of keys. Well, "set" might be a bit of a stretch; the metal chain itself was in the shape of a ring and it was small enough that Chaunti could wear it as a bracelet, yet the collection strung around it was almost the size of her head. It took all of thirty seconds for Damani to pull out the one he wanted (tiny, rusty, and silver, just every other one), and stuck in the hole, turning it twice clockwise and once counter. The hinge squeaked as the door swung open.

"What took you so long?"

Off in the distance, Chaunti could see him. He had his back toward her, standing atop a rock and staring out into oblivion. In a way that Chaunti was sure defied laws, a second sun was located above his head, identical to the one just behind her in that it was scorching hot and blinding with its light. Carefully, she took a step forward, slightly startled when a piece of dry dirt crumbled to dust beneath her feet.

"Blame your parents," she replied. "They didn't post bail until last night."

Slowly, the figure turned around to face her. What Chaunti saw, she was half-expecting. Dark circled rimmed the bags beneath his eyes. His skin was tanned and glistened with sweat; the clothes that adorned his body were no longer smooth and shiny, but covered in dirt and slightly ripped, the leather dried and splitting open, giving him a worn-out appearance. All in all, he looked more like a homeless drifter, just returned from his wanderings in the Nihal Desert, than the trouble-making Rogue of a respectable family.

"Warren," Damani called. "You're free to go."

Warren showed no real reaction as he hopped down off the ledge, calming strutting across the empty grounds and past Chaunti and the guards. She offered a small twitch of the lips; a quick glance followed by a look-away, and followed her fiancée out the door as it slammed shut behind her.

"As you probably know," Damani continued, "if you break the terms, you will be brought back here to serve out the rest of your suspension."

Warren nodded as he walked. Chaunti could tell he was only half-listening and was eager to get out of there.

"I can take it from here, thanks," Chaunti offered, putting a smile for good measure. Aside from Warren, she had yet to find one man who could resist her charms and that day was no exception. As Damani and his men passed Warren, she could almost swear she heard a faint laugh blow by in the dry wind.

"You really shouldn't be laughing," she said, once she was sure their company was out of earshot, "especially when you know what's in store for you the minute you're back on the map. And all I can say is, good luck; you're gonna need it." She gave him a shrug and a bored glance as she made her way back down the portals. When she reached the bottom, she was slightly surprised Warren wasn't right behind her, and looked back up to find him in the exact same spot he was in a few minutes ago. She waved at him, yelled at him to come down so they can leave, but he didn't budge. Already on the edge, Chaunti contemplated blasting an Energy Bolt at him to get his ass moving, but sighed in defeat when she remembered that all Skills are locked in this limbo, and all weapons confiscated. They kept small-time gang lackeys like Warren in the same dimension as sadistic Dark Knights with blades twice the height of Chaunti.

"Whatever," she muttered. She didn't want to spend any more time there; her hands couldn't stop twitching and she could already feel herself breaking out in a cold sweat. Her breath quickened its pace just a little as she turned around one last time, to see Warren still standing in the same spot, unmoving. Shaking her head, Chaunti made her way out the door, the heat of the Burnt Lands actually feeling cool against her skins which mere moments ago had been sizzling under a heat lamp in another dimension. She took a deep breath of relief.

Warren had caught up to her eventually, grabbing her arm just before she got into the Taxi. The driver gave him the stink eye, which to be fair, probably seemed justified. A young, pretty girl wandering from the outskirts of Perion and a scuffed-up Rogue who stops her just before she was getting into a Taxi to go home. No words were exchanged as he got in after Chaunti, and the car sped off.

He paid the fare, even took her by the hand as she got from her side of the car; a perfect gentleman. He didn't take off the mask until they had reached their home, atop one of the tallest trees in the town. The first thing he did when she closed the door was drop her arm like it was heavy groceries that he had been roped into carrying. Then he disappeared into the bedroom (which they shared after edging by her mother) and come out looking noticeably cleaner, with new clothes. They weren't battle armor; he only had one set, which were ruined, so he settled on regular clothes: red shirt with silver shorts, and a pair of high-top sneakers. It looked ill-fitted, which made sense, as Chaunti was sure the last time she saw him wearing any one piece of that outfit, Warren had come home with a broken arm.

Chaunti was seated on the white leather couch, a glass with thick, black liquid swirling around in it, in her hand. It was Ginseng Root; the sting that accompanied each gulp as it went down helped take the edge off. Warren barely gave her a glance as he passed, headed straight for his Steel Igor claw, which had been left on the table while he changed.

"Where are you going?" Chaunti asked, casually. She took another sip of her potion as she waited for an answer that she knew might not come out.

"Just out," he said, as he equipped his claw, clenching and unclenching his fists as he got his hand back into the feel of having a glove made of rigid steel encasing it. He waited for a moment; waited for Chaunti to ask who. But she didn't; she just smiled, seemingly satisfied.

Well, she seemed satisfied because she was. She knew exactly where he was headed and why he was going there. But she didn't bother to press him for details. It's not like he would've told her anyways, given the…history that was lying there.

It was what her mother called a "dark stain" when she found out; she had assured Warren's parents that she would be properly punished for her serious lapse in judgment. She had cried in front of both their families, apologized until the words "I'm sorry" sounded foreign and odd to her lips. They had turned to Warren, seeing as to them, he was the one bearing the brunt of having a lying fiancée. One look at him told Chaunti that he didn't give crap what she did, but the boy lied through his perfect dentures, telling them that he was…heartbroken to learn the truth, and unsure whether or not he could trust Chaunti again. The door had begun to open; she could hear the hinges squeaking, see the tiny ray of light shining through the crack, so _close_…until her mother came back, walking _so_ suddenly into their lives once more, and literally begged Warren not to leave her. He was everything that Chaunti every wanted, she had said, and she had never seen her little girl so happy. It took all her strength to restrain herself.

Even Warren was choking back a laugh when she said that. Later, when they were alone, he made a comment about how appalled he was that her mother could be so blind, and how he never knew Chaunti could be so cruel. How could she let that woman think she's actually helping her daughter when any fool could see Chaunti was suffocating? She didn't have an answer for that. Well, she did, but it wasn't one that she could just admit so freely.

Warren heaved a heavy sigh, tapping his foot impatiently as he sat waiting on a bench in the platform. He couldn't ignore the glances and whispers that he caught once in a while when someone passed by, but his face showed no visible reaction. News had spread faster than he had thought and he was looking for an excuse to get away. It made him a little sad, he supposed, that his relationship with what was supposed to his best friend had ended up amounting to nothing more than an alibi for when the trouble-making son didn't want a confrontation with mom and dad, but his current situation had left him very little viable options. He was sure that Chaunti didn't rat him out; if she did, she'd also have some explaining that she'd have to do. But that didn't mean his parents couldn't track him down like they always did.

12:01 PM; noon hour and the damn boat still hadn't arrived. A crowd had gathered by the dock, some of them lugging heavy carry-ons, others nothing more than a welcome back sign and tears of anticipation which was sure to turn into joy. Chaunti once told him that she didn't get it; if people were overjoyed, why would they cry? Why didn't they laugh; or do a dance? Crying meant sadness, but if one cried when they were happy, does that mean they laughed when they were sad? Doesn't being so sad that you start laughing mean you've gone over the edge and there was no help for you?

After that, Warren pondered that question himself. He's never cried tears of joy in his life, but…he's never cried tears of sadness either. The only times he could recall the waterworks flowing was when he was in the alleyway in Kerning, dead of the night with psycho Hermits and Night Lords looming over him, and waking up the next day in Naora Hospital. His parents rather had him in cockroach-infested beds and attended to by the same doctors and nurses who let Jane Doe die and haunt the place under their watch than in the sparkling accommodations in Ellinia, where he'd get round-the-clock dosages of what his father called "the Voodoo treatment," namely ancient herbs and all-natural remedies; potions, pills, and soups. His old man found the place "too green" for his liking, which was probably why he rarely visited Warren and his fiancée.

In the span of what felt like seconds, four minutes had passed, and before he knew it, the crowds by the waters had tripled in size, the sound of a horn blowing its top drowning out all conversation for a good thirty seconds. The grounds shook a little as the boat landed from skies to waters, its propellers which emerged from compartments on the sides driving it along until it docked, all of which Warren could clearly see as he elbowed his way into through the mass of people.

The small stream on which the platform was built flowed into the much larger Ludus Lake, which contains every piece of the land in the Maple Road. Even Orbis, which was technically a community in the sky, floating after a magical spell was cast that sent the white cobblestoned land up to join the clouds. Apparently, the fairies that inhabited the place at the time weren't too fond of the snow that was slowly covering the grounds, and instead chose to nearly exhausted their magic by living in the sky, permanently, and allowed settlers to create El Nath, a small town covered in eternal frost and snow.

Of course, Warren had never seen any of those places, having never left Victoria Island. All he could see from where he stood and where he had always been standing was vast and never-ending water. But, oh, how he wanted to see them; how he wanted to get out off the island and really start exploring. It was probably never going to happen; after his phase of rebellion, and after Chaunti proved she was no disciplinarian when it came to her husband, his parents would never let him that far out of his sight. But a guy could dream, couldn't he?

Well, there was one guy he knew that would never have to dream. Anything and everything he had ever wanted in his life was handed to him. He one said he never found the purpose of having a dream because everything he wanted was too attainable; weren't dreams supposed to be something that you set and worked towards knowing it'll probably never come true? That was impossible for him. Warren wasn't sure if he should envy his best friend, or pity him. On the one hand, yeah, he got the easy answer to life's problems, never broke a sweat unless he meant to. But on the other, well…even Warren could see behind the carefree attitude that the boy was a little lost in the life's-directions department. The world around you could get pretty meaningless when there's no challenge, he supposed.

Looking up, Warren could see at the top of the stairs a figure descending down. Even in the masses, he stuck out. When the awful backlighting stop obscuring his views, Warren could see he was smiling as he removed his blue sunglasses. It almost made the Rogue feel a little guilty for letting his best friend think that a grown-up play date was the only reason for the meet up, and nothing beyond that. What did he think?

"Warren!" He sounded happy; guess the trip went well. Warren tried to return the gesture, but it hurt his face when he tried to pull the corners of his mouth into at least looking like a smile, and not like he was sick from eating a bad Cheesecake. "Haven't seen you in months; how have you been?"He had his arms outstretched and pulled Warren into a brotherly hug. Would it be too creepy if he said that, that was the most comfortable he had felt when embracing someone in years? Warren heaved a sigh.

"Nothing much has changed," he admitted, truthfully. "Everything's as…terrible as it used to be. You remember, Kody." And he wasn't lying.

The smile faded slowly. In Kody's eyes, genuine concern arose for his best friend for whom he would've protected like a real brother. The feelings were mutual, of course, for Kody was the only one in the world to know what was truly happening with him and Chaunti behind closed doors. And honestly, it was a little awkward, given the history. Warren wasn't sure if he liked talking about, or if he thought that it brought back too many memories that were best left forgotten, but he listened anyways, sometimes for hours on end.

"Let's walk and talk," he said, pushing Warren along, out of the platform. They exited with the mass of people all flooding through. Kody didn't say much else. He simply guided the other along, up into Kerning City and through the streets, until they stopped at the Thieves' Hideout, a small bar where the basement doubled as the home of the Dark Lord, Job Instructor to the Thieves.

Warren didn't like the seedy atmosphere. The only time he had really been there was when he went to make his advancement. The bar was unusually hot, while the basement felt like it was below freezing, so cold that half the time he had been preoccupied with the fact that he could see his own breath as he spoke. But Kody was a regular patron, stopping by for drinks whenever he was on the island. He knew Warren wasn't a fan, but there really was no other place they could talk. Kody didn't have a home on Victoria Island, and Warren…well, they couldn't go to Warren's house.

That day, around high noon, the place was pretty empty. Most of the regulars didn't arrive until well into the night, sitting themselves down to unwind after a hard day. Kody ordered him Cider and a green Honster for himself. Once settled, the two simply stared at each other for a moment, both unsure of what to say next.

"I'll start," Kody sighed, eventually. "How's Chaunti doing?"

Warren's expression tightened just a little, the underlying meaning that wasn't meant to be implied but was pretty clearly there anyways, cutting through the space between them. How was Chaunti? Well, he couldn't exactly answer that because…because he didn't know. Everything with her was a formality, going through the motions. There were no real feelings, hard or otherwise. "Doesn't matter," he said, and it didn't.

"Of course it does," Kody pressed. "In case you forgot, she's the one you're marrying."

"How can I forget that?" Warren replied, sarcastically. "I've tried real hard but it doesn't work that way. Besides, she's not my problem; she wants what I want, that much I can confirm. It's my parents."

"Your parents?" Kody asked in a deadpanned voice. "Aren't you a little old to still be rebelling under their thumb?" He chuckled, obviously finding it humorous that the only thing standing between a perfectly capable person and their freedom was parental objection based on a need to control every aspect and maintain an image.

"Well, until I can get out from under their iron thumb, making a commotion is the only way I get heard," he spat back. "You know my family."

Kody nodded, his face set in an all-knowing and completely disapproving frown. "Have you talked to them yet?"

"What; about me and Chaunti? I told you, they're not gonna listen to anything either of us say."

"No," Kody continued, shaking his head, "about…about you and Hudson." Warren's face fell and he shifted uncomfortably, as if to tell him that he didn't know he knew anything. It prompted Kody to add with a little smugness, "News travels faster than you think."

"Yeah, yeah," Warren muttered. "And no, I haven't said anything. I haven't had the time. I just got out this morning. And…what am I supposed to say? How do I approach this so that they don't freak out and make sure I never get my freedom even after I'm married?" He was desperate and he knew it.

Kody shrugged, not because he didn't care, but because he honestly didn't know what to say. "They say honesty is the best policy for anything."

Warren paused for a moment. "And what do you say?"

Kody chuckled, leaning back and stretched his stiff limbs. "I say honesty is only as good as the way you can spin it. With parents, tell them the truth that they want to hear."

Warren groaned, smacking his head onto the table top. This was driving him insane; the waiting, the wondering, the wheels he was trying to turn to come up with a way, like Kody said, to tailor the truth to his parents tastes. "Have I mentioned how jealous I am of you? I mean, your parents were dead when you were still a kid, raised by you older sister, who, as loving as she is, is no parental figure, and getting free power to spend the real fortune that was left behind."

"Freedom isn't always a good thing," Kody sighed, with a warning tone. "Sometimes you don't learn the consequences before you dive into action because there was no one to teach you." He took a sip his Honster, leaving a slimy-looking green moustache just above his lip.

Warren knew what he was implying with that statement. And he knew just how bad the consequence could be; not necessarily severe, mind you, but still pretty bad in its own way. Grabbing the Cider, Warren contemplated drinking it, but in the end, he let it disappear into his inventory, saving it for later, maybe when he really needed it.

It had been hours since Warren left. Chaunti had done little except sit on the couch and give herself a mind-numbing tour of her own home. The time passed in a blur. Every so often she'd glance at the door, as if hoping it would open and reveal company; maybe her friends, Kirsty and Kirsty, or maybe even Warren, though she knew the latter was impossible. He was gone and probably wouldn't be back for a long while. She knew exactly where he was going, what he was probably doing, and most importantly, who he was with. Yet, not once had she ever mentioned his name for fearing of digging up past skeletons that took a long, painful process to bury and move on. She wondered how Warren had been able to stay friends with him and confide in him after knowing just how badly he had betrayed him. Or maybe Chaunti was just so insignificant in his life that he had barely batted an eye at the revelation.

To her left a red, mahogany counter top stood, freshly dusted and glimmering in the sunlight that spilled into the home through peaks in the leaves of the tall trees that populated a good portion of Ellinia. On top of it sat an assortment of photos, all protected behind a thick wall of glass and surrounded by an expensive and beautifully decorated frame. The space was shared by Chaunti and Warren, decorated by their parents, so most of the pictures captured moments from their childhood, when their family was their universe and they smiled without a care in the world.

In one, Chaunti is sitting on the shores of Florina Beach, a plastic bucket and shovel in her hand; off in the distance were her brothers, Noxious and Narcisco, the former kicking a beach ball around while the other was in a flotation ring out in the water. Her mother had an entire album dedicated to the vacation, but Chaunti had no real memories of it. Her oldest brother, Narci, did. He had said she spent most of it either in the hotel with their mom or digging on the beach under the cool shade of a beach umbrella, with the sounds of a camera snapping away around her head. Of all the photos, she wondered why her mother chose that one; she wasn't smiling and didn't seem particularly interesting. She wasn't even looking at the stupid camera.

Beside the candid beach shot was a photo of Warren, still a little kid with a face so chubby that when he smiled his eyes turned into tiny little crescents. He sat atop of a lofty bed, a stuffed Lupin doll lying limp beside him. His parents were nowhere in sight, and he had no other family besides them. Next to that picture was another one of Warren, where he was noticeably older and less innocent. He was still smiling, but it was more all-knowing than a truly, genuinely happy face. Sitting to his left was another person, quite different from Warren, with tanned skin, blue eyes and a wild mess of darker, sandy blond hair, in contrast to her fiancée's pale face, tall dark eyes, and silky smooth mat of jet black hair. Turning it over and undoing the clasp, Chaunti slid the photo from out of its silver, metallic framing. On the back of the picture, a small note was scrawled onto the bottom right-hand corner.

"Me and Kody," it read.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of keys being turned at the door. Quickly, Chaunti placed the photo back into the frame and returned it to its previous position. When the door finally opened, all eyes found a glassy-gazed blond Magician standing nervous yet appearing aloof in front of a row of photos. It took her a moment to process the fact that, yes, Warren had indeed returned after leaving, probably to catch up with Kody somewhere. And sure enough, she could just see the brunette's signature curls just behind Warren's head.

"Oh, you're still here." Those were the first words out of her fiancée's mouth; cold, clipped, and clearly disappointed. His face betrayed all his emotions as he dropped his gaze and cleared his throat. "I thought you'd left by now."

"By now?" she replied sarcastically. "I didn't know I'd overstayed my welcome in my own home." Crossing her arms out in front of her, Chaunti stood her ground. "You leave something here?"

Warren shrugged, tossing his keys onto the counter and stepping inside, right past her into the bedroom area. Behind him, standing there right outside the door was Kody, leaning awkwardly against the frame. He was avoiding looking at her, instead letting his head lolly around, left-right-up-down, until Chaunti was sure he had run of things he could pretend to be interested in for all of twenty seconds. When they gaze finally did meet, it made Chaunti squirm slightly, and she had, in all honestly, a difficult time trying not lashing out at him. If he wanted to say something, then just say it!

"Hello," Chaunti greeted slowly, trying to breaking the ice.

"Hi," he returned with a quick flash of a smile. It disappeared just as suddenly as it appeared, deliberately tipping her off as to the fakeness of his sincerity.

Behind her, she heard footsteps as Warren remerged. There were no significant alterations to his appearance; no change of clothes or anything in his possession, and Chaunti wondered what he had been doing back there. There were several minutes of awkward silence as the party of three stood around in the living room, Chaunti by the counter, Warren stopping just around the corner of the hallway, and Kody in the same position by the doorway. None of them appeared sure what to do next, but it was Chaunti again who took the initiative. Whoever said women were subservient to men had clearly met the men in the blonde's life. If she was expected to be subservient to them, her life would be an endless cycle where nothing was ever completed; boring, useless, and wasted.

"I'm…I'm gonna go," she sighed, heading for the door. Before she was even within a foot of distance to him, Kody had stepped well out of her way, and in that time, had pulled out a chair by the dining table and seated himself down. Chaunti paused for a moment, lingering around him without any particular reason. He was avoiding her again, his head turned firmly away from Chaunti and fixated to the scenery just outside their window. Well, if she didn't know before, she knew now that he hadn't forgotten, and he definitely was entirely comfortable. Chaunti felt almost guilty.

The whole time, she had focused on the repercussions with Warren and his family; what outcome she wanted, what she didn't want, and what surprised might spring out and scare the daylights out of her soul if she didn't tread carefully. It seems she had forgotten the other half of the equation that she unintentionally discarded and made to feel as unimportant. Chaunti supposed she should apologize. But somehow, an apology just didn't feel right, even when it was deserved. In the end, she sighed and moved on, grabbing the handle and closing the door shut behind her.

Hm, too bad she couldn't just close a door on her life; block out all the bad memories so she could either just move on fully or at least be able to cry without feeling like she was murdering her pride. They say you can't erase the past; you can only mould the future. But what if your hands were so tired and sore from trying to erase the past that you can't even begin to take hold of the future; you don't even know what you want it to look like? That's how Chaunti was feeling.

In truth, she didn't think that any of them really got past what had happened. When it first started, it didn't feel so bad; in the moment, what she did hadn't felt so wrong, even though she knew it was. The ends justified the means, or so she tried to tell herself. She was so preoccupied with the outcome that she wanted so damn _badly_ that she wasn't even thinking of anyone else. Does that make her selfish? Well, she already knew the answer to that. She also paid the price for it when it was a total bust; her mother, as she should've expected, swopped in within the hour to "save" her daughter in front of her in-laws.

No one even asked Chaunti or Warren how they felt about it when it came to light that Chaunti had been seeing someone else behind Warren's back. Her mother apologized over and over again, citing how sorry Chaunti was, and Warren's parents, too, apologized in a sense when they berated their son for not spending enough time with his future bride that she had left to find comfort elsewhere. The two families hadn't even _entertained_ the possibility that they wanted to break up; that Chaunti did what she did because she wanted to make Warren leave her.

Well, in her in-laws' defense, it seemed like a lousy reason, didn't it? She had too much pride to tell her mom that she had a change of heart and that she wasn't the perfect little angel who wanted the fairytale family, yet she was willing to let herself be accused of being a tramp by seeing her fiancée's best friend. Not even Chaunti could explain herself anymore. She just…she didn't want to let people see that she was just as childish and messed up as everyone else; that there was an ugly side to the perfect little blond who turned heads no matter where she went.

And now, because her stupid pride, she was stuck in a meaningless, dead-end relationship. Not the mention the fact, that Kody obviously still hated her and held a grudge that wasn't likely to go away anytime soon. She could still recall the day she confessed everything. Confessing the truth was supposed to make her feel better, knowing that now she had a clean slate from which to being anew. But it didn't feel like it; not even close.

That day, Chaunti had been in Masteria, killing time while shopping in New Leaf City. She had sent Kody a message to meet her by the tower. He came, and they had ridden the cable car all the way to the top before she had even begun trying to answer his questions, mainly, what's going on and why did she call him there saying there was something urgent; that they "needed to talk." Chaunti had a difficult time getting the words out. The fiery, orange sunset, the cool breeze that blew in from the open window of the cable car; as beautiful as they were it kind of killing the mood. Hm, maybe she should've asked him to meet her at the Prendergast Mansion; her confession felt more in place with the cursed puppet dolls and phantom Nightmares that roamed about in that freak show of a house in the middle of the forest of dead trees.

She didn't even remember exactly what she had said; it could've been sweet talk to cushion the impending blow or she could've gone off on a tangent and ranted about nothing. All she knew for sure was that she had simply blurted out that she wasn't who he thought she was; that she wasn't being honest with him. It was true she was engaged, but her fiancé was Warren; and surely, he knew who Warren was. She couldn't lie to him anymore, and nor could she lie to Warren and her family. She had to come clean; the secret had gone on for too long. Naturally, he exploded; well, a silent explosion, which was the worst because you never knew what could've come next. If he was violent and angry, that Chaunti could handle.

For a while he didn't even talk. He just stood up and started pacing, walking around the car in a circle. It was a good thing it was a roundabout trip up and down the tower; it gave her sometime to explain before he went off. She had apologized for lying to him, told him that she knew how upset he was. Chaunti thought it was going to feel like the plot twist to some lame movie: Kody was going to say he loved her, and ask if she loved him. He knew she didn't love Warren, so why was she marrying him? He wanted to make her happy, make her feel special and loved and whatever other clichéd crap men spewed that they think make women melt but really just roll their eyes at their pathetic attempts to persuade them. But he didn't.

He didn't say anything; well, not out loud. He mumbled a lot to himself. He was shaking, almost uncontrollably. He started stomping his feet so hard the car started to shake and Chaunti was scared that the cables might snap. And that's when she realized that Kody wasn't angry because he loved her; he was angry because she could've jeopardized his friendship with Warren. And that was the one thing that meant the world to him. Warren wasn't angry; she had explained everything to him (in private, of course), and instructed him to play along. It didn't work, obviously, as their parents' intervention prevented things from following through.

By now, Chaunti had made it all the way to Large Forest Trail on Farm Street, just outside of Nautilus Port, home to the Pirates. It was pretty well populated, people scattered about hunting pigs. It was also extremely noisy, impossible to get a moment's peace and be able to think. It wasn't what she needed at the moment. Chaunti was read to turn back…when a conversation caught her attention.

Just a little ahead of her, two Archers were sitting under a cool shade. They were discussing something…something that sounded important. The one with blue hair seemed suspicious while the other, spiky, orange-brown haired one seemed to be telling her that she worried too much.

"It just doesn't make sense," one had said. "I'm not saying I'm not grateful for what he did; I am. And I'm not saying he had a more sinister motive or anything. I'm just saying; in the moment, what he did wasn't for our benefit."

The brown haired Archer shrugged, wiping sweat off her brow. "Can't people just do something because it's nice?"

The Siren-cut girl shook her head. "Again," she sighed, "I'm not saying that I'm not grateful for his niceness. I'm saying that, in the moment, all people care about is themselves. We're selfish like that. He knew that turning against that big, beef-brain leader was the right thing to do, and in the moment, all he cared about was looking like a hero and absolving himself of as much guilt as possible."

The other Archer stopped a minute and sighed. From her inventory, she produced a single Crystal Ilbi, white and glimmering like a diamond under the sunlight. She didn't do anything with it; just held it there.

Ah, Chaunti's mind clicked. Now she remembered where she knew their faces from. They were the ones who busted Hudson a few days prior. They got medals for it and everything. And it seemed clear that they had been talking about Warren, for there was no one else in that group who would've bothered to help them. Most of them would've done the opposite, in fact, and turn them in if they found them. By the sounds of it, if it wasn't for Warren, they probably wouldn't be alive.

Finally, she sighed. "I don't know," she said, exasperate. "I just feel like I need to make it up to him. I feel like…he deserves that much."

He deserved that much? Well, if she knew what Chaunti knew, she'd probably agree that retribution for his heroism is just the beginning. Warren deserved more than what he's gotten in his life. He's endured enough to make most people want to pull their own hair out; controlling parents, a marriage forced upon him, and having only one, single person in the whole world to whom he can trust, and to whom he feels he can be truly honest about himself and the way he sees the world.

A smile slowly formed on Chaunti's lips, as the wheels began turning furiously inside her head. Given her history, more often than not it's probably not a good thing. Having her last plan fail so miserably, one would think she's given up on that and was now working a different angle. But when something like this presents itself before her, she just can't pass up an easy mark.

"Hi, I'm Chaunti."

Kody wasn't even sure why Warren had gone back. He claimed he needed a change of clothes, as the ones he was wearing were uncomfortable, and had turned town his offer to let Kody buy him news ones across the island in Kerning. Warren told him straight-up that if he didn't want to Chaunti, then he didn't have to come with him, but he went anyways just to prove that he was over what happened between the three of them. And he was…wasn't he?

They were far from Warren's lofty home in the lush forest of Ellinia, having traveled as far as the Six Path Crossway, before stopping. Kody wanted to be close to the boats. He was only on the island for the day and had to catch the last one back to Orbis. He couldn't really train there, not unless he was suicidal, but the atmosphere was better. He didn't like the childish and pompous feel of Victoria Island, and preferred the lighter, more sophisticated "Land in the Sky" that was Orbis. He felt bad for having to leave Warren again.

He had, on more than one occasion, asked Warren to go with him, but the Rogue wouldn't budge, saying his parents wouldn't let him leave. At the time, Kody had lashed out in a fit of misplaced anger, yelling that he couldn't live by his parents' rules forever; why couldn't he just suck it up and move on; leave this dump of a family behind him and start over? Kody never got an answer, probably because Warren himself didn't even know. He had lived under his family's iron fist for so long; unable to fight back that he had forgotten the reason why.

Across from him, the dark-haired Rogue sat, staring out glassy-eyed, his mind clearing not where his body was. "Are you okay?" Kody asked. "You seem distracted."

"I'm just tired," he replied. He was pushing people away again. Kody knew better than to fight him when he was in that stage, so he let the subject, however tempting to explore, drop off awkwardly.

Chatter could be heard not far off in the distance. Another group of travelers were passing through. Kody sighed, looking away in the other direction.

"Oh, Warren…"

Part of him was hoping that his ears were screwed up again, causing him to mishear that voice as – Whipping his head back around, his beady, blue eyes, met the icy ones belonging to only one person that he knew of. Yep, it was Chaunti. He groaned, inwardly. She wasn't alone this time. No, it wasn't her plastic doll-like friends, Crispy or Kirpy, or something to that effect. It was two Archers…one blue hair with matching eyes, the other; golden-eyed with orange locks set in a disarray of spikes it looked as though she had been caught in a tornado and didn't know it.

"And, Kody, you're here too." She sounded disappointed, but she couldn't openly express her distaste of him; not in front of their guests. "Uh, Rollah, Siren; you remember Warren, right?" She gestured at the dumbfounded boy sitting in front of them. "And this is Kody, his friend."

He offered a small wave, quick, polite, and meaningless.

"Warren," Rollah (or at least, he thought that was her name), whispered.

Who were they? They looked familiar, certainly. As he jogged his memory, he recalled seeing their faces everywhere he went. It wasn't a long list, just Kerning and Ellinia and the magical portal in between. But where exactly he saw them, he had trouble remembering. Rollah smiled nervously at Warren, and the latter finally snapped back into the reality, attempting to return the gesture but only managed a slight twitch of the lips, and looking away from her quickly to stare at the ground. Her brow furrowed, either confused or anger (maybe both) to have so subtly blown off by the Rogue. She glanced behind her at her companion, Siren, who shrugged, not really interested. Having caught her face at the just the right angle, Kody suddenly remembered where he saw the two of them before.

It was on the big television sets placed in every town. There were bulletins about some scary idiot named Hudson, who got busted. Warren was a part of their ring, a fact he shared with Kody from a while back, and had said that it was only a matter of time before he got caught. The two Archers had been credited for the bust, having saved two kidnapped Noobs, No. 41 and 42, and tipped off the GMs.

He was sure that Rollah and Siren weren't expecting to run into Warren again, and the only person he can credit that to, is Chaunti. She was calm, and if they weren't in the presence of guests, he'd almost say smug. What was she up to? Whatever it was, he was interested.

Several minutes of silence passed, painfully for Warren and the Bowmen (or would it be Bow-women?), entertainingly for Chaunti, and with piqued interest for Kody.

"Rollah said she wanted to make it up to you, for saving them," Chaunti began, with a tentative smile.

Warren shrugged, still not looking at them. "Whatever," he said. "They don't need to make anything up. It's fine, now leave; all of you." He was…uncharacteristically short-tempered, which didn't go unnoticed by anyone in their little group.

Rollah scoffed. "Are you angry?" she asked in an obviously condescending tone.

Although Warren didn't respond, Kody hazarded a guess that, yeah, Warren wasn't feeling too great. He didn't seem like he held a grudge for getting busted, but maybe that was just an automatic function of his pride. He didn't like people feeling like they owed him; like his was some poor, charity boy. His life may have sucked, but that was his hill to climb alone. Was it stupid? Yeah; but if don't have anything else to lose in the world; your ego is the only thing you have to cling to and be afraid of losing it or having to give it up.

Chaunti seemed delighted, though. This was definitely some half-baked idea of hers. Didn't she know better not to serve people _anything_ that was half-baked? That's just asking for food poisoning!

Behind her, the quiet Siren sighed. Perhaps she saw where this was headed, and tugged at Rollah's arm, trying to pull her along and break the silent war going on between Warren and the spiky-head girl. She struggled at first, but eventually gave in and turned around, following Siren out into Henesys. Kody could still hear her muttering along until she disappeared into the portal.

Warren let a breath of relief, seemingly glad that she was finally gone. It only made Chaunti's smile broaden. The dark haired Rogue didn't even get a chance to see, as he promptly stood up and walked away, up into Kerning City. Well, she should except not to see him home tonight. All that was left was him and the blonde, who was clearly satisfied with her work.

"What are you doing?" Kody hissed, yanking her arm a little.

Chaunti jerked it free and dusted herself off before replying. "Setting me and Warren free," she replied with a hint of sarcasm. "What did it look like?"

"It looked like you didn't know, not to kick a dead horse," he spat back. "You think you're helping but you're not."

"You would know, wouldn't you?" she said, casually. Then she sighed, realizing the jig was up. "Who am I hurting, really? I just wanted to see if maybe they could work things out, and who knows if – "

"If they would get together and you'd all be home free? This is another one of your bad ideas you decided to put in motion. Why? Because the last one worked out so well?"

Chaunti's faced tighten a little at the mention of their…relationship. "That was a mistake," she said firmly. "But I've learned."

"Really?" Kody asked, sarcastically. "It seems to me that if you did, we wouldn't even be having this conversation right now!"

Chaunti smirked. "Whatever," she spat, back. "You can't stop me. I'll do what I want, and no one can give a damn what happens."

Kody nodded in defeat. "You're right," he said. She was a little taken aback with his easy reluctance. "I can't stop you. I can't dictate your life, in the same way you can't dictate mine. But what about everyone else's? Do you think Warren and Rollah asked to get dragged into your mess? Do you think they want to clean up after you? Please," he pleaded. "You and Warren both don't want to do this. Now he has his hands tied, but you don't. So why don't you say something? It'll set you both free and you know it."


End file.
